The Life of Joseph Addison

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LIBRARY FOR THE PEOPLE.

THE LIFE OF ADDISON.

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PHILADELPHIA:
CAR EVM ART.
1846.

PHILADELPHIA:
T. K. AND P, G. COLLINS,
PRINTERS,

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ADVERTISEMENT BY THE AMERICAN
PUBLISHERS.

Tue celebrity of Miss Aikin’s previous productions—the Me-
moirs of the Courts and Reigns of Elizabeth, James the First,
and Charles the First—suggested the propriety of republishing
the “ Life of Addison,”’ the latest work of the accomplished
authoress. But the intended re-print was delayed, in conse-
quence of Mr. Macaulay’s admirable review, pointing out a
number of errors into which Miss Aikin has fallen.

A careful re-examination of the work disclosed that most of
these drawbacks had no necessary connection with the “ Life of
Addison ;”’ that they referred to matters of collateral interest;
and that it would be unjust to withhold from the American pub-

~ lie a valuable work, emanating from so distinguished a source,
when the very article that pointed out its defects, supplied the

aid by which they could be so easily corrected.

In the present edition, the publishers, availing themselves of
Mr. Macaulay’s suggestions, have—they believe without an
omission—made every correction which he has indicated; in
many instances, by silent alterations of the text, in others, by
foot notes, for which Mr. Macaulay is credited.

These defects thus remedied, the American Publishers believe
that the memoirs now introduced for the first time to the Ame-
rican reader, will be found neither inferior in interest nor defi-
cient in value to Miss Aikin’s former biographies.

Philadelphia, 1846.

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PREFACE.

‘Te present work was undertaken from the desire of supply-
ing what appeared a real deficiency in our literature. While
the lives of Pope and Swift had been written and re-written with
unwearied research and distinguished ability ; while Dryden had
in recent times been made the object of a detailed and interesting
biography, what accounts did we possess of a cotemporary infe-
rior to none of these in genius or in fame, and certainly superior
to them all in the purity, amenity and moral tendency of his
writings, as well as in the virtues of his life? . What records had
we of Addison? Two prefaces: that of Tickell to the general
edition of his works, that of Johnson to his poetry, included in
the collection of the English poets! The first of these, invalu-
able for its authenticity, and the absolute reliance to be placed
on the statements which it founds on the personal knowledge of
the writer, does not aim at the character of a complete biogra-
phy. It is a literary notice only, though of a very pleasing
kind, and much resembling the academical eulogies of the
French. That of Dr. Johnson is principally a piece of criticism;
to which it may be added, that his judicial scales were never held
with an unswerving hand when the character, whether personal
or literary, of a decided Whig was placed in the balance. In
the case of Addison too, the unfavorable bias has been aggravated
by his reliance on the manuscript anecdotes of Spence which he
had under his eye, and which embody all the prejudice and en-
mity of Pope.

x PREFACE.

ew

Of narratives compiled from these authorities it is needless to
speak.

The numerous and scattered sources from which the facts
contained in the following pages have been derived, are pointed
out in their proper places whenever they could be clearly ascer-
tained. Addison’s own correspondence, never before collected
and applied to the illustration of his biography, has been the
best guide of the writer, and will no doubt be regarded by the
reader as the most interesting part of the work. A large pro-
portion of the letters have never before appeared in print. And
here the writer cannot deny herself the satisfaction of repeating
her grateful acknowledgments to Edward Tickell, Esq., Q. C. of
Dublin, through whose eminent liberality and kindness exerted
towards a stranger, she has been enabled to lay before the public
letters and private papers of Addison’s which, passing into the
hands of his executor, have been carefully preserved ever since
in the Tickell family, and now appear with the freshness of no-
velty. Her cordial thanks must also be extended to her friend
and kinsman the Rev. Charles Strong, prebendary of St. Pat-
rick’s, for his valuable services on this occasion.

To Mr. Bolton Corney she has likewise been indebted for
much useful information and many good offices of various kinds.

CONTENTS.

}

CHAPTER I,
. 1672 to 1687.

PAGE

Introductory remarks. Account of the Rev. Dr. Addison, his father. His
epitaph. Birth of Joseph Addison. His brothers and sisters. Anecdote of
his childhood. His first schools. Is removed to the Charter-House. Forms
a friendship with Richard Steele. Account of him - - -

CHAPTER II.
1687 to 1695.

Addison at Oxford. Traditional notices of him there. His Latin verses.
His acquirements. Designed for the Church. Patronage of letters at this
period. Its results. His first English verses addressed to Dryden. Trans-
lation from the Georgics, Essay on the Georgics. Verses to Sachevere)

on the English Poets. Lines by Garth - - - - “

CHAPTER III.
1695 to 1700.

Poems on public occasions why generally failures. Lines of Addison to
the king. To Lord Somers, who becomes his patron. Account of Somers.
Latin poem on the peace inscribed’ to Charles Montague. Account of him.
He patronises Addison. Addison reluctant to take orders. Different causes
assigned for it. Moptague’s share in it. He and Somers procure him a
pension from the king to travel. Publication of Muse Anglicane. Account
of his Latin poems. His celebration of Dr, Burnet’s theory. Boileau’s
remarks on his poems. He sets out on his travels. His letters to several
friends. Takes up his residence at Blois, His mode of life there. Letters.
Friendship and correspondence with Wortley Montague. Letters to Bishop

Hough and others - -

17

28

40

xil CONTENTS.

RELA

CHAPTER IV.
1700 to 1702.

PAGE

Account of Addison’s travels in Italy. He reaches Geneva on his return.
Letter to Wortley Montague. Epistle from Italy. Letter to Lord Halifax.
Causes of his detention at Geneva. His prospects destroyed by the death
of King William. Travels in Switzerland. Proceeds to Vienna. Forms
a friendship with Mr. Stepney. Account of him - - - -

CHAPTER V.
1702 to 1704.

Addison in adversity. Erroneous representations of this period of his life.,
Swift's lines full of misrepresentation. He quits Vienna. Letter to Stepney

on his Dialogues on Ancient Medals. Account of this work. His travels in _

Germany. Letters to Mr. Stepney. To Lord Winchelsea. His character.
To Mr. Wyche. To Mr. Bathurst. Arrives at the Hague. Meets Tonson
there. His business in Holland. Letter of Addison to him. Letters of the
Duke of Somerset to Tonson concerning Addison. Letter of Addison to
the Duke., Of the Duke to Tonson. Remarks. Letter to Bishop Hough.
To Mr. Wood. To Mr. Wyche. Return of Addison to England -

CHAPTER VI.
1704 to 1706.

Addison chosen of the Kitcat Club. His lines to the Countess of Man-
chester. Still unemployed. Better prospects of the Whigs. War with
France. Battle of Blenheim. Halifax now restored to power, names Ad-
dison to Godolphin to celebrate the victory. Rewarded by being Commis-
sioner of Appeals. Poem of the campaign. Le Clerc reviews it. Travels
in Italy published. Dedication to Lord Somers. Reception of the work.
Le Clere’s favorable review. Addison presents a copy to Swift. Rise and
progress of their friendship. Swift’s testimony to Addison’s social powers.
Lady M. Wortley Montague’s. Steele’s. Pope’s. Young’s. Addison Under
Secretary of State to Sir C. Hedges. To Lord Sunderland. Attends Lord

Halifax to Hanover. Particulars of his journey and return. Official letters
to Stepney - - - ;

CHAPTER VII.
1706 to 1708.

Opera of Rosamond. Unsuccessful on the stage and why printed. Lines
on it by Tickell. His introduction to Addison and favor with him. Addi-
son assisted in the Tender Husband. Doubtful nature of his connection
with the Warwick family. Letters to the young earl. Rise of his acquaint-

68

86

CONTENTS.

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xiii

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ance with the Dowager countess, whom he afterwards married. Political
movements. Gradual preponderance of Mrs. Mashham and Harley and
Bolingbroke. Pamphlet on the necessity of an augmentation. Renewal of
his intimacy with Steele. Notices from Steele’s correspondence. Pecuniary
transactions between the friends. Correspondence private and official with
Mr. Cole. Mr. Wortley Montague, Earl of Manchester = - - -

CHAPTER VIII.
1708—1709.

Earl of Sunderland dismissed. Addison loses the Vice-secretaryship in
consequence. Earl of Wharton, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, appoints him
his chief Secretary. Account and character of Earl Wharton. His policy
and conduct in Ireland. Letter of Swift respecting Addison. Of Steele.
Addison chosen a member of Parliament for Malmsbury. Unable to speak
in the House. Takes Budgell to Ireland. His official conduct. State of
Parties - - - - - . - - -

CHAPTER IX.
1709 to 1712,

The Tatler begun by Steele. Addison becomes a contributor. State of
manners. Times favorable to the design. Character,and purposes of Ad-
dison’s papers. The war unpopular. General dismissal of the Whigs.
Letter of Addison in favor of Ambrose Philips. Notice of Hoadley. Letter
to Desmaiseaux. Situation of Swift. Letter of Steele to him. Correspond-
ence of Addison with Swift. Keally. Lord Wharton. Is re-clected for
Malmsbury. Adheres to his party. Writes the Whig Examiner. Account
of the Work. Attacks Sacheverel. Coolness with Swift on political grounds.
Extracts from Swift’s Journal relating to Addison. Steele drops the Tatler.
And why. Sets up the Spectator. Private concerns of Addison. Corre-
spondence with Wortley Montague. Misrepresentations of his Course of
Life by Pope or Spence. Residence at Sandy End. Improved circum-
stances. Purchase of Bilton. Political services to the House of Hanover

CHAPTER X.
1712 & 1713.

Remarks on the Spectator. Transactions and intercourse with Whiston.
Clarke. Berkley. Notice of Pope’s Essay on Criticism in the Spectator.
Letter of Steele to Pope. Of Pope to Addison. His patronage of Ambrose
Philips. Cato brought on the stage. Account of its reception by Tickell.
By Cibber. Error of Young. Pope’s opinion on it. Hughes applied to by
Addison to write a fifth act. Anxiety of the author. Pope’s account of

\

127

140

149

xiv CONTENTS.

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PAGE

its reception. Literary remarks. Publication of the Tragedy. Compli-
mentary poems prefixed. Criticism of Dennis, who is chastised by Pope.
Letters on this subject. Further honors paid to Cato. Letter of Dr. Smal-
ridge - - - - . s, 2 = =

CHAPTER XI.
1712 to 1715.

Quarrel of Pope with Addison. Preface to Tickell’s Tiad, and letters
concerning it - - - - - = = =

CHAPTER XII.
1713 to 1715.

Peace of Utrecht attacked by Whigs. Addison’s Count Tariff. Pamphlet
ascribed to him perhaps wrongfully. The Crisis. Steele expelled the
House of Commons for it. Assisted in his defence by Addison and Walpole.
Bolingbroke attempts to bring him over to his party, but fails. His Treatise
on the Evidences of Christianity, Character of the work. Steele puts a
stop to the Spectator at the end of the seventh volume and sets up the
Guardian. Character of Addison’s papers in it. Termination of the Guar-
dian. Eighth volume of the Spectator. Correspondence respecting a New
Periodical Work. State of public affairs. Declining health of the queen.
Treachery of the ministers who conspire to bring in the Pretender. Efforts
of the Jacobites. Counter-measures of Whig Peers. Quarrels of Oxford
and Bolingbroke. Death of the queen. Vigorous measures of the council.
George I. proclaimed. Lords Justices appointed. Addison chosen their
secretary. Foolish tale concerning him. Letter to M. De Robethon. . His
memorial to the king. Lord Sunderland, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, ap-
points him chief secretary. He refuses to give up the acquaintance of
Swift. Correspondence of Archbishop King. Letters to Major Dunbar.
Remarks, Anecdote. Authorship of the Drummer - 2

CHAPTER XIII.
1716 to 1718.

Addison’s Irish secretaryship ended. Rebellion of 1715. Addison em-
ployed to write the Freeholder. Account of the work. Rewarded with
commissionership of trade and colonies. Marries the Countess Dowager of
Warwick. Accounts of his courtship. Reasons for doubting them. Wel-
stead’s lines to Lady Warwick. Addison’s Lines to Kneller. Halifax
without power to advance him. Death of Halifax. Lord Sunderland, Se-
cretary of State, appoints Addison Joint Seeretary. His qualifications for
business. Official Letters to the Lords Justices of Ireland. 'To Mr. Dave-

“

177

200

220

CONTENTS. - x

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PAGE
_nant. Tothe Earl of Peterborough. Answer of the Earl. To the Duchess

of St. Albans. Minutes of official letters. Mr. Temple Stanyan. Anec-
dote of Addison. Embassy to the Porte. Mr. Wortley Montague. Letter
of Addison tohim. Letter of Archbishop King. Of Mr. Budgell. Of Mr.
Gibson to Mr. Tickell. Of the Archbishop of Canterbury to Mr. Addison.
Lawrence Echard. Sickness of Addison. Latin Lines of Vincent Bourne.
Addison’s Letter of Resignation . - - - - - 239

CHAPTER XIV.
1718 to 1719.

Addison in retirement. Letters to Swift. Literary projects. Peerage
bill. Writes the Old Whig against Steele’s Plebeian. Account of the
controversy. Death of Addison. Discussion of his imputed intemperance.
His will in favour of his lady. Anecdotes of his last days. Notice of him
by Whiston. His interview with Gay. Circumstance related by Dr. Young.
His funeral] and monument. Notice of his daughter. His library and pic-
tures. Conclusion - - - - - - - - 263

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HE LIFE

OF

JOSEPH ADDISON.

CHAPTER I.
1672 to 1687.

Introductory remarks. Account of the Rev. Dr. Addison, his father. His
epitaph. Birth of Joseph Addison. His brothers and sisters. Anecdote of
his childhoud. His first schools. Is removed to the Charter-House. Forms
a friendship with Richard Steele. Account of him. °

Tue study of biography brings home to the mind no one truth
with greater force and distinctness than the impossibility of ex-
plaining, onany general system, the formation of human character.
Hereditary or innate propensities appear to afford the solution of
one set of facts, the power of early associations, of another; the
influence of education, of outward circumstances, of imitation,
must all in turn be called in to solve the different classes of exam-
ples; no single theory will account for all. There evidently lies
at the root a great mystery inscrutable by man.

On this account every life should be written on the plan suited
to itself, and no general rule can be given with regard to the
insertion or omission of accessory circumstances. Thus, the in-
stances are many ii which the judicious biographer will find no
inducement to dwell at any length on the parentage of his subject;
for although this circumstance can seldom be considered as totally
insignificant, its operation is often not clearly distinguishable ;
sometimes even the results are in direct opposition to what might
naturally have beenexpected. It can rarely be made toappear, either
that genius ran in the blood, or that the particular direction which

2

18 THE LIFE OF

a ARR AARP PDP LDL LL AGI PPTL PA I SALE LALLA A

it took in any given instance wasa designed or calculated effect
of parental agency. Nay, the examples are not a few in which
the vehement opposition of a father to the native bent of his child’s
genius, has only served, like most other surmountable obstacles,
to add strength to the original propensity, by calling forth the
energy of resistance. -

With respect to Addison the case is different. In his modest
and amiable character there were few striking peculiarities, in his
conduct there were no eccentricities, in his opinions no tendency
to startling paradox.

An admirable, and certainly a very original genius in his own
line,—that of wit and humor, combined with fancy and an inde-
scribable grace,—in the other parts of literature he was rather the
judicious and discriminating follower of the best classical models,
than the inventor of any new style of excellence; and the exqui-
site taste which is one of his most pervading qualities, was doubt-
less in great part the product of early and well-adapted culture.
When, therefore, after running over in the mind his life and con-
duct, the career which he chose, his favorite studies, and the
general current of his sentiments, we turn to contemplate in a
father, whom he revered, the united characters of the churchman,
the scholar, the traveler, and the perspicuous, lively, and instruct-
ive writer, it is obvious to conclude, that it was hence that his
mind received its determining bias, and his genius its peculiar
dress and coloring. A brief account of the father thus becomes
a proper, almost an indispensable introduction to the biography of
the son.

Lancelot Addison, born in the year 1632, at the obscure village
of Maltesmeaburn, in the parish of Corby Ravensworth and the
county of Westmoreland, was the son of a person described in the
phrase of the time as “a minister of the Gospel,’ but in circum-
stances so humble, that it was in the character of “a poor child”
that Lancelot, after passing through the grammar school of Ap-
pleby, was received into Queen’s College, Oxford. Here, how-
ever, his quick and lively parts, seconded by steady application
to the studies of the place, speedily raised him above obscurity.
Having obtained his bachelor’s degree in 1654, and his master’s
in 1657, he was the next year chosen a terre Jilius at the com-
mencement,—the Oxford terre filius being a kind of licensed
jester, after the manner of Shakspeare’s fools:—a dangerous
office, since amid the seeming license of a Saturnalia, the scourge
was in reality kept suspended over the head of the luckless jester
whose gibes should come too near the consciences or the dignity

JOSEPH ADDISON. 19

of men in power! On this occasion, the youthful academic suf-
fered the monarchical and episcopalian principles which he fos-
tered in his bosom to break forth without restraint; and he satirized
the pride, ignorance, avarice, and hypocrisy of the party then in
authority with a keenness that drew upon him the severe animad-
version of his superiors. He was compelled to make his submi
sion, and according to the practice of elder times, to ask pardon
on his knees; soon after which humiliation he quitted the univer-
sity, whether voluntarily or by expulsion has been differently
reported. Whichever might be the case, he had entitled himself,
in the opinion of those who shared his sentiments, to the character
of a confessor. He was encouraged to take up his tempdrary
residence at a village near Petworth, and passed his time chiefly
in visits at the houses of Sussex gentry attached to the royal
cause, occupied in inculcating on the younger members of their
families a steadfast adherence to the principles and ritual of the
then proscribed Church of England.

On the Restoration, these manifestations of his zeal in times of
peril, being represented at court, procured him the appointment
of chaplain to the garrison of Dunkirk, which small preferment
he accepted, contrary, it is said, to the wishes of the Bishop of
Chichester, who would have provided for him; and on his return
to England in 1662, in consequence of the cession of Dunkirk to
France, he embraced the still less inviting offer, as it appears, of
a similar situation at Tangier. Eight years he remained on the
coast of Africa, in what might well be termed a state of banish-
ment, alleviated to him, however, by the occupation of collecting
that local information which he afterwards made the basis of two
interesting publieatinygoat the end of this period, he thought it
allowable to indulge hifnself with a visit to England, purposing,
after a time, to resume his station; but the appointment being
hastily transferred to another, he found himself without employ-
ment or resource, till relieved by the kindness of a private friend
who presented him to the living of Milston, near Ambrosebury
Wilts, worth 120/. per annum. On this pittance he sat down as
a married man, having united himself to Jane, daughter of Nat'.
Gulstone, D. D., and sister to the Bishop of Bristol. At Milston
his children were born, and in part brought up, and it was from
this place that he sent into the world his earlier works. After a
time his merits made their way, and he began to mount, though
slowly, the ladder of preferment. He was a prebendary of Salis-
bury cathedral and one of the king’s chaplains in ordinary when
he took, in 1675, the degree of D. D.; soon after he was made

20 THE LIFE OF

Archdeacon of Salisbury; and ‘at length, in 1683, the ecclesiastical
commissioners conferred upon him the deanery of Lichfield, in
reward of his services at Tangier, and as remuneration for his
losses by a fire at Milston. é

Meantime he was employing his pen diligently and acceptably
on professional topics; his character for consistency and for private
worth stood always unimpeached, and so high was his general
reputation, that he is said to have been destined to the mitre, but
lost it by the display which he made in the convocation of 1689,
of principles inconsistent with attachment to the cause of the
Revolution. The dean died in 1703. '

Of the works of Dr. Addison, all of them esteemed in their day,
several deserve particular notice in this place, partly for the light
which they reflect on the character of the author, but chiefly on
account of the influence which they may be presumed to have
exercised over the tastes and sentiments of his son.

His earliest publication, which appeared in 1671, in a small
octavo volume, with a dedication to Joseph Williamson, Esq., bore
the title of « West Barbary, or a Short Narrative of the Revolu-
tions of the Kingdoms of Fez and Morocco, with an Account of
the present Customs, Sacred, Civil and Domestic.” This relation
commences with the year 1508, at which period the fall of the
reigning family in these kingdoms was prepared by the machina-
tions of a Moorish priest, who, says the author, “ began to grow
into reputation with the people by reason of his high pretensions
to piety and fervent zeal for their law, illustrated by a stubborn
rigidity of conversation and outward sanctity of life.” Having
craftily added to these recommendations the claim of a descent
from Mahomet, he became, we are told, of no vulgar esteem with
a generation who from time to time have been fooled with such
mountebanks in religion.’””. The narrative proceeds to mention,
that the Zeriffe, as he had styled himself, finding the time not yet
ripe for an attempt on the throne, in order to facilitate the design,

‘sent his three sons to make the pilgrimage of Mecca in the mean
time. ‘ Much was the reverence and reputation of holiness which
they thereby acquired among the superstitious people, who could
hardly be kept from kissing their garments and adoring them as
saints ; while they failed not in their parts, but acted as much de-
votion as high contemplative looks, deep sighs, tragical gestures,
and other passionate interjections of holiness could express; Allah,
Allah, was their doleful note, their sustenance the people’s alms.”

Two of these young men, it is added, being afterwards sent by

JOSEPH ADDISON. 1

their father to court, and kindly received by the “too credulous
king,” desired his permission to display a banner against the
Christians, (the Portuguese,) which was granted contrary to the
opinion of the king’s brother, who “ warned him not to arm this
name of sanctity, which being once victorious might grow insolent
and forgetful of duty.” He “likewise told him that war makes
men awless, and through popularity many become ambitious and
studious of innovation.”” Wonderful successes attended the arms
of these adventurers, till the King of Fez, seeing that they had
poisoned the King of Morocco and placed their brother on his
throne, “ mistrusted his own safety, and began, but too late, to
repent his approving of an armed hypocrisy.” “ Puffed up with
their successes they forgot their obedience, and these saints denied
the king the fifth part of their spoils. ... By which it appeared
that they took up arms, not out of love for their country and zeal
for their religion, but out of desire of rule.” :

These and other satirical strokes against rebels in the disguise
of saints, will be seen to have a designed application to events and
parties at home; notwithstanding which, there is no ground for
looking upon this narrative as anything different from what it
professes to be,—a true history of the revolutions of West Bar-
bary. Its style is blemished by some foreign idioms, and some
native vulgarisms, but the piece is on the whole composed with
an ease, a spirit, and a vivacity, which give a very agreeable
idea of the author, and throws a charm even over so uninviting a
theme as the domestic treasons, murders, and civil wars of fierce
and ignorant barbarians.

The description of the country, with its agriculture, products,
and wild animals, and of the inhabitants, with their modes of
living, manners, customs, and religious observances, abounds in
curious and amusing particulars, derived from diligent inquiry
and personal observation, and no doubt full of novelty for the
English public at the time of their appearance. What is still
higher praise, the work is written in a truly catholic and candid
spirit, and willing justice is everywhere done to the Mussulmans
with respect to their piety and attachment to their own faith and
law, as well as to the moral virtues found among them.

A later publication, entitled «The First State of Mahometism,”
reprinted as “The Life and Death of Mahomet,” further evinced
the intimate acquaintance of the author with the religious his-
tory, rites and opinions of the followers of Islam; and to the
images suggested to his youthfal imagination by the writings or
‘conversation of his father on these subjects, we can scarcely hesi-

92 THE LIFE OF
LS oS
tate to ascribe the origin of the propensity so often evinced by
Addison, to engraft the fine creations of his fancy on some Orien-
tal tradition, or to lay the scene and seek the personages of his
tales or visions, among sultans and dervises.

The work, however, which does most honor to the learning,
the research, and in some, though certainly not in all respects, to
the candor and impartiality of Dr. Addison, was his “ Present
State of the Jews, more particularly relating to those in Barbary,”
published in 1675, and dedicated to his former patron, now Sir
Joseph Williamson and principal secretary of state. The intro-
duction represents, that although the inveterate obstinacy of the
Jews against the truth has justly rendered them the objects of
the divine displeasure, yet “their primitive ancestry, religion
and privileges, ought still to secure to them a great measure of
regard, and that Christians ought to labor for the restoration of
those whose fall was their rise, whose diminution their riches.’’

In the first chapter, a touching and compassionate view is given
of the depressed and almost slavish condition of this people under
the Moors; of the daily contumelies and injuries to which they
are exposed, and their stoical endurance of them. ‘In the midst
of the greatest abuses,’’ it is said, “you shall never see a Jew
with an angry countenance, or appearing concerned, which can-
not be imputed to any heroic temper in this people, but rather
to their customary suffering, being born and bred to this kind of
slavery.”’ 'The Moors, it appears, quiet their consciences on this
head with a notion that the Jews do not descend from Adam, and
that the end of their being was to serve the Moslem. There are no
sects, we are told, among them, but whatever may be their pri-
vate judgments, they are careful to preserve an outward uniform-
ity, and are “signally vigilant to avoid divisions, as looking upon
those among Christian professors to be an argument against the
truth of the things they profess.”

Proceeding to delineate the moral character of this people, the
author candidly declares that setting aside “their artifices of com-
merce and collusions of trade,” they cannot be charged with any
of those vicious practices ‘* which are grown into reputation with
whole nations of Christians, to the scandal and contradiction of
their name and profession. Fornication, adultery, drunkenness,
gluttony, pride of apparel, &c., are so far from being in request
with them, that they are scandalized at their frequent practice
with Christians, and out of a malicious insinuation, are very sorry
that any of their nation should give a name to, and die for a peo-
ple of such vices.”’

JOSEPH ADDISON. 23

The account which follows of the religious opinions of the
Jews of Barbary, in which they differ, it appears, “in many and
important points from their brethren in other parts of the world,”
is a clear and very interesting summary, evidently the result of
learned as well as diligent inquiry into authorities, and capable as
serving as a very instructive commentary on many passages of
the New Testament, dark to the modern reader from ignorance
of the popular opinions then and ever since prevalent among the
Jews : to this;purpose, however, the author himself has not pointed.
out its applicability. é;

A striking creed of seventeen articles is brought under the
notice of the reader, accepted and revered by these Jews as of
immemorial tradition, concerning which the writer permits him-
self to affirm, that although many of the articles of faith “may be
capable of a good construction, yet according to the present re-
ceived interpretation thereof among the Jews, they are not so
much a system of Judaism, as a cunning and malicious contradic-
tion of Christianity. . . . For,’’ he adds, “ I have heard from one
whose understanding in their religion had got him the title of a
master, that there was not an article of their faith which they did
not understand in a sense wholly opposite to Christianity. And
taking a freedom to rail at our religion, in which they are all
well gifted, he instanced in the eleventh article, (that God will
recompense good to those who keep his commandments, and will
punish those who transgress them,) as seeming to bear the least
ill will to Christianity, and from thence warmly beat down all
thoughts of redemption, with great assurance protesting, that he
would have none to pay his debts, nor any but himself to justify
divine justice for his sins . . . with a great deal more of the like
stuff, even too heinous to be inserted.’’ ‘To those who have read
the creed, the Doctor will here appear to have afforded an exam-
ple of the proneness of a polemic to impute sinister motives to
his opponent, and of his reluctance to permit him to carry out
into their fair consequences the principles which he avowedly
entertains.

A detailed and very interesting account is given of the educa-
tion of these people, and it is candidly stated that “their care is
very laudable in this particular, there not being many people in
the world more watchful to have their children early tinctured
with religion than the present Hebrews ;” and this is assigned as
a principal cause of their unshaken adherence to their ancient
faith. ; 4

A full account of the laws, usages and opinions, civil and reli-

ae

24 THE LIFE OF

OI his mn hn At ee
gious, of these Jews, occupies the remainder of this piece, to
which is appended, a “Summary Discourse concerning the He-
brew Talmud, Misna, and Gemary.”’

On the whole, it is probable that Judaism had never before been
delineated by a Christian writer in so kind or so equitable a spirit;
and even at the present day it might be difficult to point out any
piece in our language containing the same amount of accurate
information respecting the Barbary Jews, as this now neglected
and nearly forgotten work. There is far greater depth of thought
in this than in the former publication of the author; the style also
exhibits a marked improvement. Addison himself could scarcely,
on the same subjects, have written better.

Having presented to the public in these pieces the fruits of his
African residence, Dr. Addison began to exercise his pen on sub-
jects more immediately connected with the duties of his profession,
and the controversies of the time. He produced in succession,
“The primitive Institution, or a seasonable Discourse of Cate-
chising;’’ a tract with the remarkable title of « A modest Plea for
the Clergy, wherein is briefly considered the Original, Antiquity
and Necessity of that calling ; together with genuine and spurious
Reasons of their present Contempt;’’ and “An Introduction to
the Sacrament,” which proved so generally acceptable as to pass
through repeated impressions. This piece is written with great
plainness and bears the stamp of unaffected piety. The doctrine
held in it with respect to the nature and efficacy of the rite, is not
by any means what would have satisfied the followers of Andrews
and of Laud,

A few pieces of minor importance closed the list of his publi-
cations.

It was no more than a just sense of the honor due from him to
such a parent, which inspired Joseph Addison, when at the sum-
mit of his fortune and reputation, with the design of erecting
in Lichfield cathedral a monument to his father, beneath which
his own remains might likewise be deposited. Of this pious work

‘he did not live to see the completion ; and with respect to himself

the design was frustrated by his honorable interment in Westmin-
ster Abbey. The tomb was completed however by his executors,
with an inscription, the composition probably of Tickell, since a

copy of itin his handwriting now exists among his papers,—of
which the following is a transcript.

JOSEPH ADDISON. “26

P.M.
.~ LANCELOTI ADDISON S.T.P.

- AGRO WESTMORLANDIZ ORIUNDI,

IN COLL. REG. OXON. BONARUM LITERARUM PROFECTU,
DIUTINIS PER EUROPAM AFRICAMQU. PEREGRINATIONIBUS
RERUM PERITIA SPECTABILIS,

HUJUS TANDEM ECCLESIE DECANI, ET COVENTRIENSIS
ARCHIDIACONI.

EXIMIAS NATURZ DOTES, MORUM INNOCENTIAM,
b& BENEYOLENTIAM ERGA HOMINES, ET IN DEUM PIETATEM,
LUCULENTUM, SI QUOD ALIUD, AB EO PATRIMONIUM
ACCEPIT
FILIUS EJUS NATU MAXIMUS, JOSEPHUS, SEHCULI SUI DECUS,
QUI IN CONSORTIUM OPTIMI PARENTIS,
DUM HOC MARMOR IPSI ADORNARET,
PREPROPERA MORTE ADSCITUS EST. A.D. MDCCXIX.

Uxorem alteram habuit Janam...... Gulstone S.T.P. Filiam, et Gulielmi Gul-
stone Episcopi Bristoliensis, Sororem, ex qu4 tres Filios et totidem Filias sus-
cepit; Josephum, supra dictum, Gulstonum Fortalitii St. Georgii, in India Orien-
tali Gubernatorem, Lancelotum Coll. Magd. Oxon. Socium. Janam et Annam,
prima juventute defunctas, et Dorotheam, unicam ex tot liberis superstitem.
Uxorem alteram duxit Dorotheam Johannis Danvers de Shackerson, in Agro
Leicestriensi, Armigeri, Filiam, mortem Mariti, de se optim? meriti, adhue plo-
rantem.

our. A.D. 17, mTAT. LXXxI. ss

Joseph Addison was born at Milston on May the first, 1672. It
is probable that he owed his baptismal name to Sir Joseph Wil-
liamson, his father’s patron. His younger brothers and sisters, as
the inscription records, were Gulstone, so called from his mother’s
family, a merchant and finally governor of Fort St. George in the
East Indies, and Lancelot, who became a fellow of Magdalene
College, Oxford. Of the sisters, two died young, the third, Doro-
thy, was first married to Dr. Satre, refugee French minister from
Montpellier, who became a prebendary of Westminster, and after-
wards to Daniel Combes, Esq. Swift has described her as “a kind
of a wit, and very like her brother.”

In Steele’s dedicatory letter to Congreve, prefixed to the comedy
of the Drummer, the several’members of this distinguished family
are thus commemorated. ‘Mr. Dean Addison, the father of this
memorable man, left behind him four children, each of whom,
for excellent talents and singular perfections, was as much above
the ordinary world as their brother Joseph was above them.”

The only anecdote of the childhood of Addison which has
come down to us, seems to indicate something of the constitu-
tional sensitiveness which lay at the root of that reserve, or that
modesty carried to bashfulness,—whichever it may best be called,
—which attended him through life, without, however, perceptibly

26 THE LIFE OF

impeding his worldly success. Having, while at a country school
in his father’s neighborhood, committed some trifling fault, the
dread of punishment or disgrace so affected his imagination as
to prompt him to make his escape into the fields and woods,
where he is said to have subsisted on fruits, and lodged in a
hollow tree, till discovered and brought back to his parents.

After some preliminary school education at Salisbury and Lich-
field, places where his father’s eye would be over him, he was
removed to the Charter-house, as a private pupil, not on the
foundation, where he drank deep of the fountains of classical
learning. ‘He employed his first years,’ says Tickell, “in the
study of the old Greek and Roman writers; whose language and
manner he caught at that time of life as strongly as other young
people gain a French accent or a genteel air.”’

It was at the Charter-house, also, that he formed with one of
his schoolfellows a friendship of great cordiality and long en-
durance, which, from its results in after life, deserves to be classed
among the most important circumstances in the histories of both.
This schoolfellow was Richard Steele.

Born at Dublin, though of English parentage, Steele appears
to have partaken much both of the habits and dispositions re-
garded as characteristic of the Irishman. He was warm alike
in his affections and his temper; gay, convivial, frank and gene-
rous; of bright and lively parts, with an invention ever active
and ingenious; but vain, ostentatious and recklessly profuse, and
perpetually hurried along by his love of pleasure in courses
contradictory to his strong religious convictions and his own better
resolves. His, in fact, was one of those characters which often
inspire the stronger interest from their very infirmities, through
the alternate hopes and fears, praises and reproofs which they
eall forth, as now the good, now the evil genius seems about to
gain the ascendency. At this early period of life, his faults and
follies would be esteemed light in the balance against his amiable
dispositions and promising abilities, while the very opposition be-
tween his bold and open temper, and the timidity and shyness of
Addison’s, would offer an additional inducement to the cultivation
of their intimacy. By a mutual communication of sentiments
and designs, each might be enabled in some measure to supply
the deficiencies, or mitigate the extremes of the other. We may
therefore safely credit the testimony of Steele himself to the strong
parental sanction under which. their friendship grew up and
flourished.

“Were things of this nature,” he says, in the letter to Con-

JOSEPH ADDISON. 27

~~ t=

greve already cited, “to be exposed to public view, I could show
under the dean’s own hand, in the warmest terms, his blessing
on the friendship between his son and me; nor had he a child
who did not prefer me in the first place of kindness and esteem,
as their father loved me like one of them.”’

Of the two friends, Steele must have been somewhat the elder,
since his baptism is dated in 1671; yet his entrance into Merton
College is said not to have taken place till 1691, four years later
than the admission of Addison at Queen’s. There may be some
' error here, but in any case, he must have been long the Oxford
cotemporary of Addison, who did not leave the university till
1699.

Steele must have been destitute of patrimony, since he men-
tions in one of his letters that he was indebted to his uncle Gas-
coine for a liberal education. Of his academic career two facts
only, but those significant ones, are recorded: that he wrote a
comedy while at Oxford, and that he quitted it without a degree.
Afterwards, under what stress of circumstances we are not in-
formed, he entered the army as a trooper in the Horse Guards;
an incident to which, after he had rendered himself formidable
to the last ministry of Queen Anne as a political writer, he re-
ferred in the following terms: “When he cocked his hat, and
put on a broad-sword, jack-boots and shoulder-belt, under the
command of the unfortunate Duke of Ormond, he was not ac-
quainted with his own parts, and did not then know he should
ever have been able (as he has since appeared to be in the case
of Dunkirk), to demolish a fortified town with a goose-quill.”’

Even in this inferior station, however, he found means to exhibit
his amiable qualities and social talents in so favorable a light as to
gain him warm friends among his officers; and he was speedily
rescued from his self-imposed degradation by the gift of an en-
sign’s commission.

From this period, when the avocations of a military life must
of necessity have broken off his habits of personal intercourse with
the Oxford student, we hear nothing further of him till the pub-
lication of his Christian Hero in 1701, at which time he had be-
come private secretary to General Lord Cutts, to whom the piece
is inscribed. Meantime his friend was pursuing a straighter path
to literary fame and worldly advancement.

28 THE LIFE OF

WR nee

een

CHAPTER II.
1687 to 1695.

Addison at Oxford. Traditional notices of him there. His Latin verses. His
acquirements. Designed for theChurch. Patronage of letters at this period.

* Zts results. His first English verses addressed to Dryden. Translation from
the Georgics. Essay on the Georgics. Verses to Sacheverell on the English
Poets. Lines by Garth.

Trapition has preserved to us few particulars concerning Ad-
dison during his residence at Oxford; fewer by much than we
might reasonably desire, on the consideration that the earlier
periods of the life of a man of eminence, who was the architect
of his own fortune, are necessarily the most fertile of interest and
instruction. Of the steps of his academic progress, however, the
following notices are derived from the highest authority.

He was removed from the Charter-house to Oxford in 1687,
and entered of Queen’s College. Two years afterwards, the
accidental sight of some of his Latin verses excited so much ad-
miration in Dr. Lancaster, afterwards provost of that society, that
he exerted himself to procure his admission into Magdalene Col-
lege, of which he was elected Demy (semi-communarius), in
1689. That was called the golden election, because twice the
usual number were admitted, there having been no election the
year before, by reason of the quarrel between the college and
James Il. Among those elected at the same time with Addison
were the noted Sacheverell, Boulter, who became primate of Ire-
Jand, and Smallbroke, afterwards a theologian of some note. Ad-
dison became probationary Fellow in 1697, and actual Fellow
the following year.* That he had long before his attainment of a

eee

* From the obliging information of the Rev. Dr. Routh, the President of Mag-
dalene College.

Another early discoverer of Addison is indicated in the following letter writ-
ten by Young to Tickell when preparing the posthumous edition of his works.
The exercises alluded to appear to have escaped the search of his editor.

’ - March ist, 1738.

Dn. TrckeLt—I have now with me some gentlemen of Maudlin, who, giving
an account of Dr. Farryer’s funeral, (who is succeeded in his professorship by
Dr. Bertie of this college,) say Tom Collins made an affecting speech over him
and among other points dilated on his being a means of discovering Mr. Addi-
eons genius, and improving it by exercises imposed on him, which exercises he

- Eh Ti
JOSEPH ADDISON. eat

fellowship engaged in the labor of tuition, we learn from the brief
statement, that “ Sir John Harper is under Mr. Addison’s care at
Magdalene,”’ contained in a letter of Mr. Smalridge’s without
date, but certainly written about 1690.* Of his habits and dis-
position the following notices are all that could now be collected at
Oxford. That he was always very nervous; that he kept late
hours ; and that most of his studies were after dinner ;—a cir-
cumstance, it may be observed, pretty conclusive of the sobriety
of his habits at this period.. A walk with rows of trees along the
side of the college meadow, is still pointed outas his favorite
haunt ; it continues to bear his name, and some of the trees are
said to have been planted by him. The particular direction of
his assiduous studies we are left to discover by the results; from
these we may safely conclude them to have comprised the classi-
cal authors, Greek and Latin, and a wide range in polite litera-
ture. There is no appearance that the exact sciences ever
obtained any great share of his attention; but he was not like
Pope and Swift, chargeable with the arrogance and folly of de-
crying and attempting to turn into ridicule subjects which he did
not understand. It is evident that at this or some later stage of
his progress he made himself a master in the art of criticism, and
acquainted himself widely with systems of metaphysics ancient
and modern, and distinct traces are discernible in his writings of
a taste for natural history and a respectable proficiency in some of
its branches.t His first destination was for the church, and it is

said in express terms, he hoped ye gentlemen now publishing that great man’s
works, would search after, as being much too valuable to be neglected. I asked
y@ gentlemen if they could guess in whose hands they were, who said. Tom Col-
lins was ye man to be consulted. ,

Gr is this moment come in, who says he has writ to this purpose to Ox-

ford—Excuse therefore, dear sir, ; Yours most faithfully,
E. Youne.

(Tickell Papers.)

* See Mr. Smalridge to Mr. Gough, in Atterbury’s Correspondence (edition
in 5 volumes), i. 28, 29.

+ Thus the Spectator represents his friend Sir Roger as joking him on pass-
ing so much of his time among his poultry. ‘‘ He has caught me twice or thrice
looking after a bird’s nest, and several times sitting an hour or two together
near an hen and chicken. He tells me he believes I am personally acquainted
with every fowl about his house; calls such a particular cock my favorite, and
frequently complains that his ducks and geese have more of my company than
himself. I must confess that I am infinitely delighted with those speculations
of nature which are to be made in a country life; and as my reading has lain
very much among books of natural history, I cannot forbear recollecting upon
this occasion the several remarks which I have met with in authors, and com-
paring them with what falls under my own obseryation.’? This passage serves
as preface to some beautiful remarks on instinct, occupying the remainder of

THE LIFE OF

probable that moral and theological topics had begun already to
engage his attention. It was the fortune of Addison to enter life

~~" ata period which, whether or not the merits of its writers have

justly earned for it the appellation of the Augustan age of Eng-
land,—a much disputed question,—is clearly entitled to be dis-
tinguished as the age of Mecenases. Such was the power of
fashion in this point, that no sooner did a new aspirant announce
himself in any of the walks of elegant literature, than the dedi-
cation of his first work and the character of his patron, became
almost an object of contention among the great. Not an author
of any class, however slender his talents, was long unnoticed or
unfriended by some person of eminence ;—as an infallible, how-
ever unhappy consequence, there was scarcely any man of letters
who long preserved his natural freedom, or stood clear of the
reproach of interested adulation. ‘This state of things was not
indeed entirely novel. Learned incense had long been a market-
able commodity both in England and on the continent. For
nearly half a century, Louis XIV. had carried on the splendid
traffic of pensions for eulogy with the greater part of the literati
of Europe, and to this wholesale patronage, his courtiers and even
historians of his reign, have not scrupled to ascribe the rising of
that constellation of great writers by which his * Age’”’ was distin-
guished. But that heaven-born genius could be actually created
by the fiat of a despot, and for the low purpose of ministering to
his vanity and ostentation, is surely a faith too enormous to have
been seriously entertained. Louis himself lived to exhaust al-
most all the distinguished ability which had contributed to the
glories of his earlier years, and it was in general replaced by me-
diocrity. In England, adulation itself would have blushed to
ascribe to the influence of its successive sovereigns the ripening
of a corresponding “ harvest of the mental year.” Nothing is
more notorious than the disregard of good letters and their pro-
fessors evinced by Charles II., whose smiles and bounties were
engrossed by the ministers of his passions and pleasures, and
afterwards by his brother, whose whole soul was absorbed by his
enterprises against the religion and liberties of his subjects. The
hero William, occupied with the art of war and the destinies of
Europe, was equally destitute of leisure, and very probably of

a

this paper, and the whole of the following (Nos. 120-1) and evincing considera-
ble acquaintance with the subject.

See also two letters to the young Earl of Warwick, hereafter to be quoted, in
which the writer invites him to a concert of singing birds.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 31

taste, for the encouragement of elegant literature. The passive
partner of his throne, on whom he chiefly devolved the ecclesias-
tical patronage of the crown, although sufficiently accessible and
gracious to churchmen who had distinguished themselves by the
zealous avowal of revolution-principles, is not recorded as having
bestowed either acts or words of favor on the poets or general
writers of the time. In fact, superioras Mary undoubtedly was in
character and capacity to the dull and feeble-minded Anne, there
is no reason to believe that she had received higher mental cul-
ture than her sister, or that she would have betrayed less of
apathy than was afterwards exhibited by this princess to the
brilliant manifestations of literary genius which surrounded
her. William, however, little as he was disposed to court those
blandishments of the Muses in which his great opponent reveled
with so much self-complacency, had doubtless marked with the
eye of a politician the rapidly augmenting influence exerted
through the press on public opinion. Hence he was never slow
to lend his sanction to those acts of favor and bounty which his
ministers suggested to him, as the means of retaining the best
pens for the defence of those great maxims of civil liberty on
which his throne was founded. This new perception it was, of
the utility of men of letters as political partisans, which gave rise
to a patronage of writers by rival statesmen: under William and
Anne, so comprehensive as scarcely to stop short of placing every
name of the smallest celebrity in the long list of pensioners and
placemen.*

It can scarcely be supposed that the wary and observant spirit
of Addison at any time overlooked the encouragement to political
partizanship afforded by this state of things; yet in the earlier
productions of his muse, it was to the attainment of reputation as
the poet and the scholar that his efforts were chiefly directed.

We have already seen, that a specimen of his skill in the com-
position of Latin verse had been the means of gaining for him, in
his eighteenth year, a demyship of Magdalene college; and in
this art he continued occasionally to exercise himself during the
whole period of his residence at Oxford. His first attempt in

* Voltaire, struck with the different kinds of patronage of the learned prac-
tised at this period in England and in his own country, remarked, with reference
to the brilliant success of Addison, that had he been born in France, he would
have been elected a member of one of the academies, and by some female
influence might have obtained a yearly pension of 1200 livres: or else might
have been imprisoned in the Bastile, on pretence that certain strokes in his
tragedy of Cato had been discovered to glance at the porter of some man of

quality.

32 THE LIFE OF

i TTT it, OO ee
English verse which has come down to us, was a short’ piece ad-
dressed in 1693 to Dryden, then descending into the vale of years,
and compelled by that penury from which neither his surpassing
genius nor his unwearied industry had exempted him, to occupy
with the servile task of translation the remnant of his days. ‘The
gentle office of cheering the aged bard at his labors by praise
and sympathy, was not less congenial to the disposition of the
youthful aspirant than creditable to his taste and discernment.
With all the ardor of genuine feeling he congratulates the vete-
ran on a fire unquenchable by the injuries of time,—a “second
youth rekindled in his breast ;” and he compliments him on having
heightened the majesty of Virgil,* given new charms to Horace,
lent to Persius “smoother numbers and a clearer style,” and set
a new edge on the satire of Juvenal. Ovid is referred to as his
present task, and a fervent prayer is breathed, that neither age
nor sickness may impede him, till his Ovid, thus transformed,
shall “reveal,

*¢ A nobler change than he himself can tell.’

Soon afterwards, the ambition of emulating what he praised,
engaged Addison himself in a translation of the second Georgic,
of which the elder poet complaisantly remarked, after this, ‘my
second swarm is scarce worth the hiving.”’t This courtesy was
again requited on the part of the younger, by the humble but
welcome service of supplying arguments to most of the books of
the Awneid, and by the present of a critical essay on the Georgics,
which Dryden printed as a preface to his own translations, but,
by the special desire of the author, without his name. ‘To write
a preface for Dryden, whose performances in this kind are both the
first specimens in our language of literary criticism, worthy of at-
tention, and still among the best models of English prose,—was
indeed an undertaking too hazardous to be avowed by any literary
novice. ‘lo have received no foil in such an enterprise, was, if
not a higher, certainly a more valuable distinction, than to have
reaped laurels in the fields of Latin verse. The essay on the
Georgics, though interesting almost solely as the trial-piece of
Addison in a kind of writing of which he afterwards became so
eminent a master, has nothing, however, in the style to mark it
as a juvenile composition. ‘I'he diction is very elegant, but rather

* His entire translation of this poet had not yet appeared, but specimens had
been given in his Miscellany,

+ According to Mr. Macaulay, Dryden’s compliment referred to Addison’s
version of the fourth Georgic.

*

‘tame. The tone of the remarks is calm, judicious, and tasteful;

JOSEPH ADDISON. 33

~~

and though the piece exhibits no depth of thought or of learning,
it answers the most valuable end of popular criticism; that of re-
commending, and pointing out to the observation of inexperienced
readers, the characteristic excellences of a great master and a
noble work. “After this particular account of the beauties in the
Georgics,” says the modest writer, “I should in the next place
endeavor to point out its imperfections, if it has any. But though
I think there are some few parts in it that are not so beautiful as
the rest, I shall not presume to name them, as rather distrusting
my own judgment, than I can believe a fault to be in that poem
which lay so long under Virgil’s correction, and had his last hand
put to it.””. Such was the deference for established and merited
reputation with which one youthful critic judged it decent to enter
upon his office !

Another proof of the literary diligence of Addison at this period
of his life, and also of what Dr. Johnson seemed to doubt, his
sound-Greek scholarship, has recently come to light. From let-
ters preserved in the family of Tonson the bookseller, it appears
that he engaged in the important enterprise of a translation of
Herodotus, a part to be executed, and the whole superintended,
by himself. ‘The exact period of this undertaking is unknown,
for the letters are without date of year; but it was evidently dur-
ing his residence at Oxford, and from one expression, it seems as
if Dryden’s translation of Virgil was then in progress. From
what causes this work was never given to the public, we are not

‘informed, nor do we learn how much of it was executed, except-

ing that Addison’s two books were completed. The English
translation made by Isaac Littlebury, which remained for about a
century the only one, was published in 1709.

The letters relative to this translation follow :—

MR. ADDISON TO MR. TONSON.

Dear Sir,—I was yesterday with Dr. Hannes,* and communi-
cated your request to him. I told him that Dr. Blackmore, Mr.
Adams, Mr. Boyle and myself had engaged'in it, and that you
had gained a kind of promise from Dr. Gibbons, so that he could
not plead want of time. The Doctor seemed particularly solicitous
about the company he was to appear in, and would fain hear all

* Dr. Hannes was residing as a practising physician at Oxford. He was a
contributor to the Muse Anglicane.

3

34 THE LIFE OF

the names of the translators. In short he told me that he did not
know how to deny Mr. Tonson any request that he made, and
therefore if you would desire it, he’d undertake the last Muse. |
I would fain have you write to the Doctor and engage him in it,
for his name would much credit the work among Us,* and pro-
mote the sale.
As for myself, if you remember I told you that I did not like
my Polymnia, if therefore I can do you any service, I will if you
please translate the eighth book, Urania, which if you will send me
down, you need not fear any delays in the translation. I was
walking this morning with Mr. Yalden, and asked him when we
might expect to see Ovid “ de arte Amandi” in English; he told
me he thought you had dropped the design since Mr. Dryden’s
translation of Virgil had been undertaken, but that he had done
his part almost a year ago, and had it lying by him, &c. Iam
afraid he had done little of it..... I believe a letter from you
about it would set him at work. He takes care to convey my
pieces of Herodotus to you. Iam, sir, your humble serv‘.

Feb, 12!» To Mr. Jacob Tonson, at the sign of the Judge’s Head
near ‘emple Bar in Fleet St. London, '

MR. ADDISON TO MR. TONSON,

Dear Sir,—I received your parcel about the beginning of last
week, and not being able to find Dr. Hannes at home, have left
his part with his servitor. I shall see him next week, and if I
find it necessary, will let you know what he says. I shall have
but little business about the latter end of Lent, and then will set
about my Muse, which I’ll take care to finish by your time...

You shall have your Urania the beginning of this week, &c.

MR. ADDISON TO MR. TONSON,.

..+.T have been so very full of business since the receipt of
your papers, that [ could not possibly find time to translate them
so soon as I desired. I have now almost finished them.....
Mr, Clay tells me he let you know the misfortune Polymnia met
with upon the road.....

Your discourse with me about translating Ovid, made such an
impression on me at my first coming down from London, that I
ventured on the second book, which I turned at my leisure hours,

PAE RAN

SAN

Lest

* Us at Oxford must be understood.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 35

and will give you a sight of it, if you will give yourself the trouble
of reading it. He has so many silly stories with his good ones,
that he is more tedious to translate than a better poet would be.
But though I despair of serving you this way, I hope I may find
out some other to show you how much I am yours, &c.

May 28",

The second book of Ovid, and, afterwards, the third book and
part of the fourth, were all that Addison ever accomplished of this
author ; they appeared first in a volume of the Miscellany Poems,
and were republished by Tickell. That Addison’s poetical trans-
lations “‘ want the exactness of a scholar” has been remarked by
Dr. Johnson, and doubtless they must be reckoned free, or lax
ones. It should be recollected, however, that the notion,—surely
a very erroneous one respecting translation, especially of poetry,
—then generally received was, that the ancient or foreign writer
should be rendered into such a style as it might be supposed that
he would have written had he been an Englishman and the co-
temporary of his translator, and it is difficult to say what room is
left on this principle for “the accuracy of a scholar,” except in
avoiding evident mistakings of the sense, and of these he is by no
means accused. The same high authority, however, has done
justice to the powers of subtile and refined criticism displayed by
Addison in the notes, which in fact amount almost to a commen-
tary, and add to particular remarks, judicious observations on the
pervading manner of the writer. In these notes will be found the
first draught of that system of pure taste which he reproduced in
its finished state in his admirable Spectators on True and False
wit. Great indeed and rapid had been his advancement in the
arts of criticism and of composition since the production of his
timid essay on the Georgics!

-He now produced in the form of an epistle to his academical
cotemporary and companion Mr. Henry Sacheverel,—whose sister
is said to have been at this time the lady of his affections,—* An
account of the greatest English poets, from Chaucer to Dryden.”
This piece, on the whole, does him far less credit as a critic than
the prose essay just mentioned, without entirely compensating this
inferiority by its poetical merits, It was held cheap by its author
in his riper years, and never reprinted by himself from the mis-
cellany where it first appeared; but it was included by Tickell in
the posthumous edition of his works. Asa record, however, of his
estimates of native writers, at a period of life when it is probable
that his tastes and opinions would mostly be those professed in the

36 THE LIFE OF

4

learned body to which he belonged, it deserves an attentive con-
sideration. ‘The prepossessions of the youth are never without
influence on the mature performances of the man.

By way of preliminary, it may be well to remind the reader that
this work was produced at a peculiarly unfavorable juncture. Dry-
den was the only living poet of eminent genius, and it was in pur-
ity of taste rather than in fervor of imagination that his successors
were to excel. Readers had learned, chiefly in the French school
of criticism, to require of their poets great accuracy in the use of
language, a stricter control of judgment over the flights of fancy,
and a finer and more uniform polish, than had satisfied their less
fastidious ancestors. These excellences, however, had not yet
been attained. Garth and Addison himself, the destined chiefs of
the correct, or classical school, were at present only tuning their
instruments; and the sole effect of these new ideas as yet percep-
tible, was an unusual aggravation of the disdain with which, in
periods of rapid progress, every age is disposed to look back upon
ils immediate predecessors. The vigor, the raciness, the exube-
rant fancy, the exquisite strains of melody which immortalize the
venerable fathers of English verse, were unable to redeem them
from neglect or scorn. It was presumptuously assumed that all
excellence, all skill, and especially all taste, was but of yesterday ;
and even the times of Elizabeth, now celebrated as our Augustan
reign, were reckoned into the “ barbarous ages.’’ Such a state
of public feeling may serve to explain, and in some measure to
excuse, what must else be stigmatized as the unaccountable and
unpardonable injustice perpetrated by our youthful critic against
two imperishable names in the following passage :—

*¢ Long had our dull forefathers slept supine,
Nor felt the raptures of the tuneful Nine,
Till Chaucer first, a merry bard, arose,
And many a story told, in rhyme and prose’;
But age has rusted what the poet writ, |
Worn out his language, and obscured his wit:
In vain he jests in his unpolish’d strain,
And tries to make his readers laugh, in vain.
Old Spenser next, warm’d with poetic rage,
In ancient tales amused a barbarous age;
An age that yet uncultivate and rude,
Where’er the poet’s fancy led, pursued,
Thro? pathless fields and unfrequented floods,
To dens of dragons and enchanted woods. ;
But now the mystic tale, that pleased of yore,
Can charm an understanding age no more;
The long spun allegories fulsome grow,
While the dull moral lies too plain below.”

Pb

: JOSEPH ADDISON. 37

It is satisfactory to know that the last of these rash sentences
was modified on an appeal from Addison ignorant to Addison bet-
ter informed. He is said by Spence,—a very indifferent autho-
rity indeed,—to have confessed that he had never read Spenser
when he wrote the lines; and we find him, long after, making an
indirect amende honorable in his paper on True and False wit in
the Spectator, where, after observing that « Milton had a genius
much above false wit,’’ he adds that “ Spenser is in the same class
with Milton.” “Great Cowley,” a “mighty genius,” is com-
mended with more effort than skill; in remarking on his lavish
Seagee of wit and thought, the poet stumbled on the luckless
ine,

**He more had pleased us, had he pleased us less,??

which, long years afterwards, Pope gratified his surviving malig-
7. against the dead, by inserting among the examples in his
“Treatise on the Bathos.”” Few probably even among the sincere
admirers of Cowley, would now concur in the kind of praise here
given to his Pindarics; still fewer in the concluding tribute to his
episcopal editor and eulogist :
*< Blest man! whose spotless life and charming lays

Employ’d the tuneful prelate in thy praise ;

Blest man! who now shall be for ever known

By Sprat’s successful Jabors and thy own’!??

Milton is next named, and a rapturous burst of admiration and
delight succeeds, evidently from the heart, and expressed with
characteristic grace, though not with appropriate energy. It con-
cludes, however, with an,

‘¢O had the poet ne’er profaned his pen
To varnish o’er the guilt of faithless men!”
and the demerits of the political partisan seem, in the estimate of
the critic, to neutralize the praises due to Paradise Lost.

Waller is characterized with some elegance, but the wish ex-
pressed after the couplet,

** Thy verse can show e’en Cromwell’s innocence,

And compliment the storm that bore him hence,’?
that his muse had not “come an age too soon,” but had survived
to celebrate “ great Nassau” and “ his Maria’? on the throne, is,
to say the least of it, peculiarly unfortunate in its juxtaposition,
After a civil salute to Roscommon and Denham on his way, he
summons all his powers for those happy lines, once familiar to
every reader:

—

38 THE LIFE OF

ee

‘¢ But see where artful Dryden next appears,
Grown old in rhyme, but charming e’en in years,
Great Dryden next, whose tuneful Muse affords
The sweetest numbers and the fittest words.
Whether in comic sounds or tragic airs
She forms her voice, she moves our smiles or tears.
‘Ifsatire or heroic strains she writes,

' Her hero pleases and her satire bites.
From her no harsh unartful numbers fall, ‘
She wears all dresses, and she charms in all.’

Now that the dramatic works of Dryden are nearly forgotten,
while those of Congreve are the only performances of his which
keep him in remembrance, it isa kind of surprise to find him
proceeding thus:

¢¢ How might we fear our English poetry,
That long has flourished, should decay with thee,
Did not the Muse’s other hope appear,
Harmonious Congreve, and forbid our fear:
Congreve! whose fancy’s unexhausted store
Has given already much, and promis’d more,
Congreve shall still preserve thy name alive,

2h, And Dryden’s Muse shall in his friend survive.’?

It is perhaps still more extraordinary that Dryden himself, in
an address to Congreve on his comedy of the Double Dealer,
should have complimented him as the destined future wearer of
his own laurel. He had as yet published nothing but a noveland
two prose comedies, and except that some of his occasional poems,
—performances, it must be said, of very slender merit,—were pro-
bably already printed in the miscellanies, we should be led to imag-
ine that the drama was considered by these high authorities as
forming a species of poetry in itself, without regard to the cir-
cumstance of its being written in verse or prose. More probably,
however, this is one of the frequent instances in which the par-
tiality, or flattery, of cotemporaries has ventured upon auguries of
future success and glory which have been falsified by the event.
In this case, we must likewise make allowance for the unusual
dearth of poetical genius at the time.

No other dramatists, not even Shakspeare, is found in this
scanty catalogue of English poets; but ‘justice demands,’’ says
our author, that «The noble Montague” should not be left unsung,
«For wit, for humor and for judgment famed,” and who, besides,
addressing Lord Dorset, In numbers such as Dorset’s self might
use,”” had adorned his lines with the “ god-like acts’ of the hero
of the Boyne. He adds,

‘But now to Nassau’s secret councils rais?’d,
He aids the hero whom before he prais’d.?

JOSEPH ADDISON. 39

Possibly we may be allowed to infer from the last couplet, that it

was as much to the statesman as the poet, that the homage of Ad”
dison was in this instance offered. The poem concludes with an
expression of the author’s intention to quit poetry and prepare to
tell of “greater truths.’’*

It may be interesting to compare with this poem of Addison’s,
a passage in Garth’s Dispensary, written not many years after-
wards, indeed, yet when the catalogue of living English poets
had already received some important accessions, including that of
Addison himself. It will be seen that Congreve and Montague
still retained in the estimation of the best cotemporary judges a
reputation which, as poets, they have totally lost with posterity: so
capricious is literary taste, so Table to be affected by temporary or
personal considerations.

*¢In sense and numbers if you would excel,
Read Wycherley, consider Dryden well.
In one, what vigorous turns of fancy shine !
In th’ other Sirens warble in each line!
If Dorset’s sprightly Muse but touch the lyre,
The Smiles and Graces melt in soft desire,
And little Loves confess their am’rous fire.
The gentle Isis claims the ivy crown
‘To bind th? immortal brows of Addison.
As tuneful Congreve tries his rural strains,
Pan quits the woods, the list’ning, Fauns the lain,
And Philomel in notes like his complains ;
And Britain sincet Pausanias was writ,
Knows Spartan virtue and Athenian wit.
When Stepney paints the godlike acts of kings,
Or what Apollo dictates Prior sings,
The banks of Rhine a pleas’d attention show,
And silver Sequana forgets to flow.
....’Tis Montague’s rich vein alone must prove,
None but a Phidias should attempt a Jove.’
The Dispensary, Cant. iv. 1. 207.

—P POO PLP PPLE AAS

* All the early pieces of Addison referred to in this chapter, together with his
translation from Virgil, and of the story of Salmacis from Ovid were published
in the third and fourth vols. of Miscellany Poems. London, 1693, 1694. See
Wood’s Athen Oxon. by Bliss, vol. iv. col. 603,

t By Mr. Norton.

&

40 THE LIFE OF ©

. CHAPTER III.
1695 to 1700.

Poems on public occasions why generally failures. Lines of Addison to the
king. To Lord Somers, who becomes his patron. Account of Somers. Latin
poem on the peace inscribed to Charles Montague. Account of him. He
patronises Addison. Addison reluctant to take orders. Different causes
assigned for it. Montague’s share in it. He and Somers procure him a pen-
sion from the king to travel. Publication of Muse Anglicane. Account of his
Latin poems. His celebration of Dr. Burnet’s theory, Boileau’s remarks on
his poems. He sets out on his travels. His letters to several friends. Takes
up his residence at Blois. His mode of lifethere. Letters. Friendship and
correspondence with Wortley Montague. Letters to Bishop Hough and
others.

Ir was another of the unfavorable results of that activity of the
spirit of literary patronage which, with its causes, has been already
adverted to, that it tempted the poets to an injudicious choice of
themes. Extraordinary as it may at first sight appear, facts will
bear out the assertion, that public events of the day, whatever their
nature or magnitude, however agitating to the passions or import-
ant to the destinies of a people, have scarcely ever, in a single
instance, served for the foundation of an excellent poem. Even
the laureate strains of Dryden, though abounding in those flashes
of brightness which his genius could not help emitting, form no
just exception to the rule. Victories and peace-makings, royal
accessions and births and marriages, so long as they continue
topics for the gazette, have always about them too much of vulgar
notoriety, too much of the everyday notions and phrases of every
man, not to be the scorn and disgust of the Muses. Their sacred
flame, we might say, is never kindled at the parish bonfire. Yet
these are precisely the topics on which poems are wont to be
commanded, or likely to be rewarded, by the rulers of the state.

The embarrassments attending a scanty allowance, and the ne-
cessity of seeking patronage, betimes, as the only passport to the
emoluments and dignities of the profession which he purposed to
embrace, strongly persuaded Addison to this employment of his
talents; and on the return of his majesty from the continent, after
the campaign of 1695, the young Oxonian offered him the homage
of what was then styled, “a paper of verses.” The great event
of the year, the capture of Namur in sight of the whole French |

JOSEPH ADDISON. 41

army under Villeroi, who feared to risk a battle for its relief, sup-
plies, as might be supposed, the prominent theme of eulogy ; and
in fact it was an action which greatly advanced the military repu-
tation of William. The poet, however, has taken occasion to cast
a backward glance upon his former éxploits, not omitting the battle
of the Boyne; and to celebrate the race of Nassau, as

4 “¢ By heav’n design’d
To curb the proud oppressors of mankind ;
To bind the tyrants of the earth with laws,
And fight in ev’ry injured nation’s cause,
The world’s great patriots,”’-—

while of the immediate hero of his verse he says, not unhappily,

‘¢ His toils for no ignoble ends design’d,
Promote the common welfare of mankind;
No wild ambition moves, but Europe’s fears,
The cries of orphans and the widow’s tears ;
Oppress’d Religion gives the first alarms,
And injured Justice sets him in his arms;
His conquests freedom to the world afford,
And nations bless the labors of his sword.’

This address, therefore, is to be regarded less in the light of a
mere laureate effusion of court compliment, than a deliberate as-
sertion of Whig principles, in which, through whatever means he
caine by them, born of such a father and educated at Oxford, the
life-long perseverance of Addison through all changes of fortune
is a sufficient pledge of his sincerity. He prefaced his poem like-
wise, with what Dr. Johnson scornfully designates, “a kind of
rhyming introduction to Lord Somers.”’ Fortunately for their
author, his unpretending, and certainly elegant lines, experienced
a more generous reception from the illustrious statesman to whom
they were inscribed,—himself an ardent cultivator of literature,
and justly commended, in this very piece, as, “above degrading
envy.’ The “present of a muse unknown,” was accepted with
characteristic urbanity, and rewarded by a request tosee the author.

From this first introduction, Somers, attracted doubtless by a
classic elegance of mind, clothed, like his own, in all the graces
of native modesty, adopted the patronage of Addison with the
zeal of real friendship; such favor, and from such a personage,
could not fail of exerting a decided influence, both on the feelings
and judgments of its object. In his politica] capacity, Addison
would assuredly have made no difficulty in avowing himself the
disciple of Somers; and a slight sketch of the character and ca-
reer of this memorable statesman will thus cast a reflected light
on his own.

.

42 THE LIFE OF

’ Somers was born at Worcester in 1651, and received the rudi-
ments of education at the collegiate school of that city. His
enemies have reproached him with a low extraction; it is evident,
however, that his father, who practised as an attorney, could have
been destitute neither of fortune nor liberality, since it was as a
gentleman-commoner that he entered his son of Trinity College,
Oxford. Swift, writing to Lord Bolingbroke, then-in exile, and
consoling his lordship’s disappointed ambition, and his own, by
bitterly remarking on the good success of «men of a lower degree
of discretion and regularity,’ both in rising to high offices, and
in filling them, and the contrary results attending on men of
genius in the administration of public affairs, adds, “I know but
one exception, and that was Lord Somers, whose timorous nature,
joined with the trade of a common lawyer, and the consciousness
of a mean extraction, had taught him the regularity of an alder-
man or a gentleman usher.’ From this casual remark of a bitter
enemy, and one who was beyond the reach of scruples in vilify-
ing those whom he hated, we may learn, that while no one dared
to refuse to Somers the character of a man of genius, he possessed
likewise the qualities of a punctual and methodical man of busi-
ness, invaluable in the high public offices to which his merit raised
him. ‘The reproach of timorousness is sufficiently refuted by the
whole tenor of his political conduct.

It appears that he was early admitted on the terms of a familiar
companion at the country seat of the young earl, afterwards duke,
of Shrewsbury, in the convivialities of which, enlivened as they
were, with the sallies of wit and the play of fancy, he is said to
have partaken, like the duke himself, too freely for his constitu-
tion. Being destined by his father to pursue the law in earnest
and as a profession, Somers quitted the university without taking
a degree, but not without having imbibed a strong passion for
literature, of which he still found leisure to afford some proof by
contributions to the miscellaneous translations, both of Plutarch’s
lives and Ovid’s epistles. But politics were his true element,
and, moved with patriotic indignation against the measures of the
court towards the latter end of the reign of Charles II., he com-
menced his inestimable services to the cause of English liberty
by a succession of tracts on all the important questions of that
alarming period, as they arose. He ably supported the Exclu-
sion Bill by his pen; and having established his reputation at the
bar by his defence, in 1683, of the sheriffs of London and others
accused of a riot, he afterwards augmented it to the highest pitch
by his appearance as counsel for the seven bishops under James II.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 43

In common with his early friend, the Earl of Shrewsbury,
Somers was deep in the counsels for bringing over the Prince of
Orange; and in the Convention-parliament, where he represented
his native city, he managed with great dexterity the conference
with the lords concerning the critical word abdicate. For these
services he was rewarded by King William in 1689 with the
office of solicitor-general; three years afterwards he became at-
torney-general, then keeper of the seals, and still rising in esteem
with the public through his ability and integrity as a magistrate,
and the meekness with which his faculties were borne, and with ~
his royal master as a minister on whom, in the midst of almost
universal perfidy, he could place firm reliance, he was elevated
in 1695 to the dignity of lord chancellor and the peerage. On
this occasion his good taste prompted him to employ the pen of
Addison in the honorary office of drawing up the preamble to
his patent. Lord Somers was soon after solicited to add to his
political and professional honors the literary one of the presidency
of the Royal Society, then rising into reputation and importance.
Of this institution, John Evelyn, that model of a meritorious
English gentleman, was one of the original founders and most
active managers; and partly from the opportunities of personal
acquaintance thus afforded him, he was enabled to draw for pos-
terity the following sketch of its President.

“Jt is certain that this chancellor was a most excellent law-
yer, very learned in all polite literature, a superior pen, master
of a handsome style, and of easy’conversation; but he is said to
make too much haste to be rich, as his predecessor and most in
place in this age did, to a more prodigious excess than was ever
known,’’*

With regard to the serious charge which here counterbalances
so much commendation, and from a person of adverse politics, it
may be freely admitted, that the general charge brought against
the public men of these times, of unexampled rapacity, is per-
fectly well-founded. It originated probably in the universal both
profusion and corruption of the government of Charles II., and
especially in the extraordinarily brief and precarious tenure by
which all offices were held under the profligate rulers of that
unworthy sovereign. It was natural for those to catch with a
greedy grasp at present profit, who could place so little depend-
ence on the future; and the same excuse, whatever be its force,
must in fairness be extended to the official persons of several

~

—~_—~_~eVoeooro
* Evelyn’s Memoirs, iii. 382.

44 THE LIFE OF

<u ITE ete cc, eS
succeeding reigns, forming a period of balanced parties, active
political intrigue, and frequent ministerial revolutions. With re-
gard to Lord Somers in particular, he held a place of the most
uncertain duration, and in which, from its allowing of no retum
to legal practice, he had need to avail himself of all honest expe-
dients as a protection against absolute penury whenever a poli-
tical change should throw him out of play. On the removal of
his incompetent successor, Sir Nathan Wright, this highest legal
dignity was refused by several eminent lawyers to whom it was
successively tendered; and it was only accepted at length by
Lord Cowper on the equitable, but novel stipulation of a retiring
pension of 20007. If, therefore, as is probable, Evelyn’s charge
against Somers is founded only on the grants of crown lands
which he obtained, as necessary for the support of the rank to
which it had pleased his sovereign to elevate him, there is but
little ground for it. . Of venality or corruption in his office he has
never lain under the slightest suspicion.

The favorable reception granted to the inspirations of his loyal
Muse by one minister of state, naturally disposed Addison to re-
peat the experiment; and in 1697 he produced a second celebration
of the glory of William in a Latin poem on the peace of Ryswick,
which he presented to the first commissioner of the Treasury, the
same Montagu whom he had before celebrated in English verse
as a poet.

If a second patron were to be sought, Addison could not have
made a selection in every respect more appropriate; while
Somers was the chief of the Whig administration in the House of
Lords, Montagu was its leader in the Commons, where his elo-
quence, his constitutional zeal and knowledge, and his political
dexterity, were equally conspicuous; and as a patron of letters
his name already stood pre-eminent. Like Somers, this cele-
brated person, better known by his later designation of Earl of
Halifax, owed his elevation to his talents ; although he was of
noble extraction. Charles Montagu, descended in a right line
from the chief justice of that name, was a younger son of a
younger brother of that Earl of Manchester who was general of
the parliament’s army during the civil wars. According to the
information of Dr. Johnson, it was the practice of Busby to detain
his brightest pupils as long as possible under his own tuition ;
and it is therefore to be taken as a testimony both to the genius
and the classical proficiency of Montagu, that he had attained the
age of majority before he quitted Westminster school for Cam-

JOSEPH ADDISON. 45

bridge, in 1682, with the design of qualifying himself to enter the
church,

In accordance with the taste and practice of the most disgrace-
ful period of English history, he first exhibited himself as a can-
didate for poetical celebrity in two pieces of court flattery; an
Ode on the marriage of the Princess Anne, and verses on the
death of Charles Il. The last perforrnance had the good for-
tune to attract the notice of the Mecenas of that time, the Earl of
Dorset, who immediately invited the author to London, and intro-
duced him to the wits. Soon after, he gave an indication of a
freer and less courtly turn of mind, by joining Prior in the com-
position of “The Country and City Mouse,”—a parody on Dry-
den’s celebrated defence and panegyric of the Church of Rome,
“The Hind and Panther.’ This fact might at least have shel-
tered him from Pope’s reproach, that, “ Dryden alone escaped
this judging eye ;’’ while the admission of the satirist that his
Bufo, « Helped to burn whom he helped to starve,” proves that
this true patron of letters knew how to honor as a poet him on
whom he had poured just contempt as a mercenary apostate.

Consistently with his principles, Montagu was one of those who
signed the invitation to the Prince of Orange; and having now
given up all thoughts of the church, he obtained a seat in the
Convention-parliament. Under the reign of William a pension
was conferred upon him, in acknowledgment of his eminent ser-
vices as a parliamentary debater, and he rose by two or three suc-
cessive steps to the head of the treasury board, having proved his
ability for this branch of the public service, by his successful
management of the difficult business of a re-coinage, and the es-
tablishment of the first sinking-fund.

_ From the facts which came out at a subsequent period, when
he was impeached by the House of Commons, but shielded by the
Lords, it is pretty clear that he had been guilty of some impro-
per and irregular practices in his official capacity ; and he seems
to have died too rich for his honor. He was splendid, however,
in his establishment and his collections of books and objects of
art, and his extensive patronage of men of letters was a credit
both to himself and his country; although it may well be true,
that « fed with soft dedication all day long,’ he grew too fond of
that inflating food. Asa politician, though certainly not free from
self-interest, he deserves the praise of enlightened views, manly
principles, and an honorable consistency. When Addison first
addressed himself to Montagu he was at the summit of his power ;
no imputation had as yet fallen on his conduct; and there was

46 ‘THE LIFE OF

certainly not a writer in the country who would have regarded
his notice and favor otherwise than as one of the first objects of ©
ambition. The advances of the rising poet were received by this
discerning patron with all the cordiality he could have hoped or
desired.

Addison had now attained the age of 25; he had spent ten
years in the University, and it was four since he had taken his
Master’s degree. His residence in college, notwithstanding his
fellowship and the resource of pupils, brought him so little of
emolument that he was still burdened with debts. His father had
Jong been urgent with him to put a period to his general studies,
and proceed to take orders; nevertheless he still continued to
defer that irrevocable step, like one waiting upon fortune. Tickell,
in his brief memoir, has expressed himself on the causes of this
backwardness in the following terms: ‘ Of some other copies of
verses printed in the Miscellanies when he was young, the largest
is, ‘ An account of the greatest English poets,’ in the close of which
he intimates a design he then had of going into holy orders, to
which he was strongly importuned by his father. His remarkable
seriousness and modesty, which might have been urged as power-
ful reasons for his choosing that life, proved the chief obstacles to
it. These qualities, by which the priesthood is so much adorned,
represented the duties of it as too weighty for him; and rendered
him still the more worthy of that honor which they made him
decline. It is happy that this circumstance has since turned so
much to the advantage of virtue and religion, in the cause of
which he has bestowed his labors the more successfully, as they
were his voluntary, not his necessary employment. ‘The world
became insensibly reconciled to wisdom and goodness, when they
saw them recommended by him with at least as much spirit and
elegance as they had been ridiculed for half a century.”

On this passage, which perhaps deserved some reprehension for
the abjectness of spirit which it unwarily imputed to a man of wit
and genius whose after. career certainly evinced no such undue
opinion of his own incapacity even for high and difficult stations,
—Steele, with a true zeal for the memory of his friend, inflamed
however by jealousies and personal resentments against Tickell,
thus indignantly remarks; “As the imputation of any the least
attempt of arrogating to myself, or detracting from Mr. Addison,
is without any color of truth, you (t. e., Mr. Congreve, to whom
the letter is addressed), will give me leave to go on in the same
ardor towards him, and resent the cold, unaflectionate, dry, and
barren manner in which this gentleman gives an account of as

JOSEPH ADDISON. 47

/

great a benefactor as any one learned man ever had of another.
. ... Asfor the facts and considerable periods of his life, he either
knew nothing of them, or injudiciously places them in a worse
light than that in which they really stood. When he speaks of
Mr. Addison’s declining to go into orders, his way of doing it is,
to lament that his seriousness and modesty, which might have
recommended him, ‘ proved the chief obstacles to it.’ It seems
‘those qualities by which the priesthood is so much adorned, re-
presented the duties of it as too weighty for him, and rendered
him still more worthy of that honor which they made him decline.’
These, you know very well, were not the reasons which made
Mr. Addison turn his thoughts to the civil world; and as you
were the instrument of his becoming acquainted with Lord Hali-
fax, I doubt not but you remember the warm instances that noble
lord made to the head of the college not * to insist upon Mr. Addi-
son’s going into orders. His arguments were founded upon the
general pravity and corruption of men of business, who wanted
liberal education. And I remember, as if I had read the letter
yesterday, that my lord ended with a compliment, that however

~he might be represented as no friend to the church, he never
would do it any other injury than keeping Mr. Addison out of it.
The contention for this man, in his early youth, among the people
of greatest power, Mr. Secretary Tickell, the executor for his
fame, is pleased to ascribe toa serious visage and modesty of
behaviour.”

That we have here the true statement of the case, cannot be
doubted, and the warm feeling and right appreciation of the merits
of the eminent person concerned which it evinces, excite unavail-
ing regret for Steele’s omission to fulfill his promise of himself
giving, as supplementary to the literary memoir of 'Tickell, a
fuller account of the friend whom he had known so long and loved
so well.

It was apparently the duty of Montagu, after rescuing the ob-
ject of his protection from the spiritual arm, immediately to pro-
vide for him by some civil employment; but, regarding him as
not yet fully qualified for any considerable office, he could only
concur with his earlier patron Lord Somers, in a step than which
indeed none could be more flattering to the merits, or grateful to
the feelings of Addison,—that of soliciting for him from the crown

—————— eee»

* By this expression is perhaps meant, not to insist upon his resigning his
fellowship if he failed to do so.

48 THE LIFE OF

ees

a pension of 300. per annum, to enable him to complete the cir-
cle of his accomplishments by travel.*

Queen Elizabeth, when prevailed upon, as she sometimes was
by Lord Burleigh, to charge herself with the traveling expenses
of young gentlemen of promise, was accustomed to require of them
in return, that they should keep up a correspondence with her.
secretary of state, and take upon them the offices of what were
termed intelligencers, in plainer English, spies. But in this re-
spect manners had doubtless changed for the better. We do in-
deed possess one letter of Addison’s offering his services to a new
secretary, yet there is no ground to imagine that swch services
were required, or that much more was expected, than that he
should do credit to the bounty of his sovereign by accomplishing
himself in the French tongue and other branches of knowledge
appropriate to a future candidate for political employments. At
the same time he was anxious to contribute to the honor of his
country by exhibiting to foreign scholars that exquisite skill and
taste in the language of ancient Rome of which he had already
given such striking evidence. ,

In furtherance of this design, he now printed at the Sheldon
press a second volume of the Muse Anglicans, in which his own
poems occupy a conspicuous place;—celebrated productions of
which some account must here be given. ;

The composition of Latin verse, even when not a commanded
exercise of the schools, seems an effort of imitation so natural and
obvious to the academic, with a memory stored from the treasury
of the ancient classics, and a taste formed almost exclusively on
their models, that it cannot but be regarded as a serious derogation
from the credit of early English scholarship, to have produced so
little of this kind of fruit. Dr. Johnson has remarked, that before
the appearance of the works of Milton and Cowley, and of May’s
continuation of Lucan’s Pharsalia, the English “ appeared unable
to contest the palm of Latin poetry with any other of the learned

ROR ee

I

* Ina memorial addressed by Addison to George I., of which a copy in his
own handwriting exists among the Tickell papers, this cireumstance of his life
is thus stated: “* That your memorialist was sent from the university by King
William, in order to travel, and qualify himself to serve his majesty, by which
means he was diverted from making his fortune in any other way. ,

* That the king allowed him an annual pension for this end, but his majesty
dying in the first year of this his allowance, and the pension being discontinued
your memorialist pursued his travels upon his own expense for above: three
years.” From this account it should seem, either that the pension was not
granted on his first leaving England, in 1799, or that it had been long in arrear
at the time of William’s death, which did not occur till March 1701-2.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 49

nations.” These writers had found no successors of equal merit
when Addison, whether moved by the example of two poets both
of them early objects of his fervent admiration, or solely by the
promptings of his own elegant and highly classical spirit, first
determined to build up a literary reputation on the foundation of
Roman song. Some pieces of merit had however been produced,
which, mingled with others of inferior quality, had issued from the
Oxford press, but with a London editor, in 1691, in a single volume
entitled Muse Anglicane.

A sequel to this work, also from the Sheldon press, appeared in
1699, in which all the Latin pieces of Addison, eight in number,
were contained; his poern on the Peace leading the way. No
name of editor is given, but there is no doubt that the selection
was made by Addison himself, nor, of course, that the elegant
Latin preface which reappeared with some improvements in the
enlarged and corrected edition of 1714, was from his pen. In this
address to the public it is emphatically stated that no piece has
been inserted in this collection but with the consent of its author;
and a severe censure is passed on the editor of the former volume,

»who, in publishing without authority several imperfect and juve-
nile attempts, is said to have consulted his own profit more than
the reputation of the writers. The absence of any contributions
from Cambridge scholars, is adverted to in terms of great politeness,
which yet suggest the suspicion that they had been withheld from
a spirit of petty jealousy towards the rival university.

“Fatendum est tamen opus hoc minis esse perfectum, quod
nullis Cantabrigiensium exornetur carminibus. I}lud vez0 infortu-
nium nimie potius ipsorum modestie tribuendum est quam nostris
Volis, qui prestantissima illorum poémata non semel frustra expec-
tavimus. Eorum sané haud pauca summa cum voluptate legimus,
quibus denud recudendis prelum ultrd (si ita visum fuisset autori-
bus) nec sine honore inserviisset. Nolumus tamen alicujus
scripta sese inscio in lucem emittere, ne invitis famam donare
videremur, et nostro exemplo approbare quod olim in alio Poético
Examine vituperandum meritd censemus.”’*

* That Cambridge could at this time boast of many Latin poets, though not a
single English one since their still vaunted Montagu, is proved by the following
letter from Mr. James Talbot to Lord Herbert:

‘¢ Cambridge, 28th Nov. 1697.

‘¢ My Lord—The vice-chancellor having favored me with the disposal of some
copies of our book of verses upon the peace, I was ambitious of this opportunity
of presenting one to your lordship, as a token of our loyalty to the king, and of
my dutiful respects to your lordship........ I doubt, my lord, your critics of

4

50 THE LIFE OF

~_—~

ARPA AR RRR RD LAS

Great and general was the applause given by cotemporary
scholars to the first fruits of the learned muse of Addison; nor
has their fame proved fugitive. The correctness and classical
purity of these graceful productions have received no attaint ; and
although, as Dr. Johnson observes, that praise must not be too
nicely weighed which assigned to his poem on the Peace the
character of “the best Latin poem since Virgil,’ judges of the
present day, both competent and impartial, have held that in the
flow and cadence of his verse, at least, Addison has more nearly
attained the sweetness and majesty of Virgil than any other mo-
dern. In the subjects also of his pieces, as well as in the treat-
ment of them, it is certain that more of originality, and of imagi-
nation is exhibited, than in the earlier, at least, of his English
poems. He must indeed be master of a dead language who ven-
tures to sport in it, and it is therefore a conclusive proof of the
force of his scholarship, as well as a very remarkable circum-
stance in itself, that the vein of humor which, though unques-
tionably native to the mind of Addison, is nowhere perceptible in
his vernacular poetry, discloses itself very happily in several of
his Latin pieces. It tinges several passages of his mock-heroic,
the Battle of the Pygmies and Cranes, comes out more broadly
and amusingly in the “ Machine gesticulantes, anglice a Puppet-
show ;” and “ Spheristerium”’ (the Bowling-green) is altogether in
a style of easy playfulness.

The Ode addressed to Dr. Thomas Burnet, author of the « Sa-
ered Theory of the Earth,’’ though too much of a Horatian cento
in the diction, is undoubtedly the highest effort of his muse in
respect of thought and imagery ; he appears indeed to have caught
fancy and sublimity from the remarkable work of genius which
he celebrates. In another point of view, the publication of this
poem, exactly at the juncture when it appeared, is a fact highly
honorable to its author. ’

It was in 1680 that Dr. Burnet, then a fellow of Christ-church,
Cambridge, published the work in question. Five years after-

the drawing-room will be somewhat displeased by our omission of English
poetry, whichis not the constant growth of this soil. °Tis enough if once ina
reign our university can produce a Montagu or a Dryden: here are many indeed
that would be more willing than the latter to compliment the government upon
this joyful occasion, but as we have very few, (if any) that can pretend to the
abilities of these masters, so it was thought advisable not to encourage any at-
tempts in that kind, from which we could promise ourselves so little success.
But though our Latin poetry is not calculated for the meridian of the court, your

lordship, I hope who is so able a judge, may find some entertainment in this
book,?? &.—Warner’s Epistolary Curiosities, yol. i. p. 167.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 51
wards, he was appointed master of the Charter-house, in which
capacity he opposed a firm and successful resistance to the jin-
trusion of a popish pensioner upon that establishment, when
attempted by James II. This conduct had obtained for him,
after the revolution, the appointment of chaplain to the king, and
through the influence of Archbishop Tillotson, that of clerk of
the closet. But his next work, published in 1692, under the
title .of « Archwologia Philosophica, being an inquiry into the
opinions of the ancients concerning the origin of all things,’’ had
given extreme offence to the clerical body by its criticism of the
Mosaic accounts of the creation, the fall of man, and the de-
luge.* In consequence, he had been deprived of the clerkship
of the closet, and the intention of raising him to the episcopal
bench had been abandoned. In the position of Addison at this
period,—a young man with his fortune to make,—the public and
distinguished celebration of a divine under disgrace at court and
in the church on such a ground, deserves to be commemorated as
no slight evidence of independence of mind and moral courage.

It appears that Addison, on setting out for his travels, carried
with him the new volume of Muse Anglicanew, and occasionally
availed himself of it as a kind of credential letter in his visits to
the scholars of the continent. Hence it happened that, in the
words of 'Tickell, “he was admired in the two universities, and in
the greater part of Europe, before he was talked of asa poet in
town.”’ On this subject, the same biographer gives us likewise
the following anecdote and remarks:—‘*Our country owes it to
him, that the famous M. Boileau first conceived an opinion of the
English genius for poetry, by perusing the present which he made
him of the Muse Anglicane. It has been currently reported, that
this famous French poet, among the civilities he showed Mr. Ad-
dison on that occasion, affirmed that he would not have written
against Perrault, had he before seen such excellent pieces by a
modern hand.

“ Such a sentiment would have been impertinent and unworthy
Boileau, whose dispute with Perrault turned chiefly upon some
passages in the ancients, which he rescued from the misinterpre-
tations of his adversary. The true and natural compliment made
by him was, that these books had given him a very: new idea of the

LLL

a

* ¢¢ The Archeologia Philosophica of Thos. Burnet is intended to question
the literal history of the creation and fall. But few will pretend that either La
Clere or Burnet were disbelievers in revelation.”—Hatiam’s Introd. to the
Literature of Europe, §¢.

52 THE LIFE OF

English politeness ; and that he did not question but there were
excellent compositions in the native language of a country that
possessed the Roman genius to so eminent a degree.”

In this explanation of the Frenchman’s compliment, there can
be no question that Tickell is in the right; at the same time it
must have required in the compatriot of Shakspeare and Milton,
a large allowance for the “proud ignorance”’ of the French in the
language and literature of all other modern nations, to receive such
aspeech with his best bow of humble acknowledgment. Dr. Jobn-
son cuts the knot in his own manner: * Nothing,” says he, “is
better known of Boileau than that he had an injudicious and
peevish contempt of modern Latin, and therefore his profession
of regard was probably the effect of his civility rather than appro-
bation.”’

It was in the summer of 1699 that Addison, taking his final
leave of an Oxford residence, though he still retained his fellow-
ship, made his way by Dover to France, and in the first instance,
it appears, to Paris. Under what high auspices he traveled, will
be manifest from the following letters, of which the first is ad-

dressed to that Charles Montagu who speedily became Lord Hali-
fax.

MR. ADDISON TO CHARLES MONTAGUE, ESQ.

Honour’d Sir,—I am now in a place where nothing is more
usual than for mean people to press into y® presence and conver-
sation of great men and where modestie is sovery scarce that I think
I have not seen a Blush since my first Landing at Callice, which
I hope may in some measure excuse me for presuming to trouble
you with a Letter. However if I may not be allowd to Improve
a little in y* confidence of y® Country I am sure I receive in it
such Effects of your favour in y° civilities my L’ Ambassador has
bin pleas’d to show me that I cant but think it my Duty to make
you acquainted with them; I am sorry my 'Travails have not yet
furnisht me with any thing else worth your knowlege. As for
the state of Learning; There is no Book comes out at present
that has not something in it of an Air of Devotion. Dacier has
bin fore’d to prove his Plato a very good Christian before he ven-
tures upon his Translation and has so far comply’d with y® Tast
of the Age that his whole book is over-run with Texts of Scrip-
ture, and y* notion of pre-existence supposed to be stol’n from
two verses of the prophets. Nay y* Humour is grown so uni-
versal that it is got among y* Poets who are ev’ry day publishing

JOSEPH ADDISON. 53

~

Lives of Saints and Legends in Rhime. My Imperfect Acquaint-
ance with y* French tongue makes me incapable of learning any
particular News of this Nature so that I must end my Letter as I
begun it with my most humble Acknowlegements for all your
favours. Iam &c.

To Charles Montague Esq‘. &c.
Paris August 1699.

The next letter is written to Lord Chancellor Somers. Of Mr.
Sansom, the third correspondent of Addison, I am unable to sup-
ply any information.*

MR. ADDISON TO LORD SOMERS.

My Lord—I have now for some time liv’d on y* Effect of your
L’ship’s patronage without presuming to return you my most
humble Thanks for it. But | find it no less difficult to suppress
y® Sense I have of your L‘ship’s favour than I do to represent
itas I ought. Gratitude for a kindness receiv’d is generally as
troublesome to the Benefactour as the Importunity in soliciting
it; and I hope your L*‘ship will pardon me if I offend in one of
these respects who had never any occasion or pretence to do it on
the other. The only Return I can make your L‘ship will be to
apply myself entirely to my Business, and to take such a care of
my Conversation that your favours may not seem misplaced on
my Lord your L'ship’s &c.

To my L* Chancellour Paris 7 1699.

MR. ADDISON TO MR. SANSOM,

Dear Sir—You may be sure [ have not bin in a little Hurry at
my first Arrival in Paris that I cou’d so long forget returning you
my Thanks for your last kindness: and truly I think I have paid
no small compliment to the Shows of the place in letting ’em take
up my thoughts so far as to make me deny myself y® satisfaction

RADRRARR NR ee AAR ARRAN

* For the power of presenting to the public these, and other letters which
will appear in their proper places, I am indebted to Edward Tickell, Esq., Q.C.
of Dublin, the lineal descendant of Tho. Tickell, Esq., executor to Addison, and
editor of his works, who has permitted them to be transcribed from originals in
his possession for the purposes of this biography, with a liberality and kindness
of which { want words adequately to express my grateful sense. They will be
found to supply many instructive and entertaining particulars of one of the most
interesting periods of Addison’s life, regarding which scarcely anything has
hitherto been known. ‘Their original othography has been preserved, as well
as the contractions which mark them for copies made by himself.

54 ‘ THE LIFE OF
of writing to you. Your letter to Mr. Breton has gain’d me y°
Acquaintance of a Gentleman who is in all respects such as I
shou’d have guess’d Mr. Sansom’s friend to have bin: His Con-
versation at Dover made my Stay there very pleasant as his In-
terest in the Officers made my Departure easy. The great Talk
of this place at present is about y° King’s statue that is lately set
up in the Place Vendéme. It is a noble figure but looks very
naked without a Square about it: for they have set up the Furni-
ture before the House is half Built. If I meet with anything
here worth your knowledge I will trouble you with y° relation of
it and in the mean time am Dear S' &c.
To John Sansom Esqe. Paris 7 1699.

The deficiency in his knowledge of the French tongue, which
he owns to Lord Halifax, led Addison, after snatching a first view
of the sights of Paris, to take up his temporary abode at Blois; a
city celebrated for purity of accent, where he might devote him-
self without interruption to the study of what, through the pre-
dominancy of Louis XIV., had now become the universal language
of diplomacy and politics throughout Europe. Spence, on the
authority of a certain Abbé Philippeaux, an inhabitant of the
place, gives an account of his manners and habits during his resi-
dence here, in which, while it betrays in every line the little and
vulgar mind of the reporter, there seems, however, to be some-
thing genuine and characteristic. “Mr. Addison stayed above a
year at Blois. He would rise as early as between two and three
in summer, and lie abed till between eleven and twelve in the
depth of winter. He was untalkative while here, and’ often
thoughtful; sometimes so lost in thought, that I have come into
his room and stayed five minutes there before he has known any-
thing of it. He had his masters generally at supper with him,
kept very little company beside; and had no amour whilst here,
that | know of; and I think I should have known it if he had
had any.” In what branches of knowledge all these “ masters”
were to instruct him does not appear; he had, of course, one for
the language, and it is possible that he might also embrace this
opportunity of taking some lessons in what were called the exer-
cises, that is, fencing, dancing, and riding, usually acquired at
this time by young gentlemen on their travels. He doubtless
invited his instructors to his table for the sake of practice in
speaking French; we learn from his own letters that there was
little other society in the place worth cultivating even with this
view. There is reason to think that he here began his Cato, but

JOSEPH ADDISON. 55

a great part of his private studies must have been in the Latin
classics. He has himself told us, that he read before he went to
Italy to refresh his memory. After the publication of his travels, it
was indeed invidiously suggested that “he was indebted to Alberti
for his mode of viewing Italy ;” a notion which is deservedly repro-
bated by Tyers,* while Johnson contents himself with the dry re-
mark, that “he had made from the Latin poets preparatory col-
lections, of which he might have spared himself the trouble, had he
known that such collections had been made twice before by
Italian authors.” This may indeed be true, but that such trouble
would have been well spared will be admitted by those only who
have not learned by experience the incalculable superiority of
original research over second-hand information.

Addison wrote a letter to Colonel Frowde from Paris, in No-
vember, immediately before his removal to Blois. We perceive
from its contents that this gentleman was an Oxford acquaintance ;
from later letters we learn that his friendship with Addison was a
lasting one; and he is doubtless the same person described by
Nichols in his edition of Swift, who corresponded with him, as
Comptroller of the Foreign Office, at the Post Office; a gentle-
man much beloved by his friends, and the author of two tragedies.

MR. ADDISON TO COLONEL FROWDE.

Dear Colonel—I was extremely glad to receive your Letter, not
only because I saw Colonel Frowde’s name at y® Bottom of it
but because it was written in English, a Language that had not
bin spoken to me six weeks before, so that I read it over with y*®
same pleasure as a man sees an Old Acquaintance. I was sorry
however to hear in it that you had bid Farewell to Poetry by y*
Instigation and contrivance of my brother Garr, that friend to
strong drink and Enemy to the Muses: but I hope you will repent
of so Rash a resolution, and that you have so much of y* Ambition
as well as y® other talents of a Poet as to value Fame and Immor-
tality beyond 10 pound. If you are to forfeit so much for every
copy of Verses you write, you may consider for your comfort that
y° poorer you grow y® more you will resemble those of your
Brotherhood. As for myself I am so Embarras’d with nouns and
Verbs that I have no time to think of Verse, but am forc’d to
Decline and conjugate words, instead of putting ’em into Rhime.
I cou’d wish as well as you that I were:able to Learn y* Language

Tee

* See his Historical Memoir of Addison.

56 THE LIFE OF

sooner and so hope to see you quickly in England: but I have so

much of a Wit in me that I have a Bad Memory, which hinders

me from performing my Task so speedily as I wou’d wish. How-

ever as bad as it is, it will never let me forget how much Iam &c.
To Collonel Frowde. Paris 9°". 1699.*

The following letter is doubtless also addressed to an Oxford
friend, then on his travels, but of whom nothing further is now
known. The Dr, Davenant whose scrip is mentioned, must have
been the celebrated author on political arithmetic, who was one of
the first to call the attention of his fellow-countrymen to subjects
of this nature. He was at the same time a party writer, and made
it one of his principal objects to animadvert with keenness on the
conduct of the Whig ministers of King William, and the policy
which they pursued.

MR. ADDISON TO MR. ADAMS.

Dear Sir—I have bin lately very much indispos’d with a Feaver
or I wou’d have answered your Letter sooner, but am at present
very well recover’d, notwithstanding I made use of one of y°
Physicians of this place, who are as cheap as our English Farriers
and generally as Ignorant. I hope y® news you sent me of ST
Edward Seymour’s Act will prove true, for here are a couple of
English Gentlemen that have turn’d off a Fencing-Master on the
streneth of it. I have here sent you a scrip of Dr. Davenant’s
new Book as it came to me ina Letter. It is level’d against the
Ministry and makes a great noise in its own country &c. To pass
from Statesmen to the Cloath-Hat you left with me: You must
know that it has travail’d many miles and run through a great
variety of Adventures since you saw it last. It was left at Orleans
for above a week, and since that fell into y® hands of a Hackne
Coachman that took a particular Liking to our English Manufac-
ture and wou’d by no means part with it, but by many fair words
and a few menaces I have at last recovered it out of his Hands;
tho not without y* Entire Loss of y® Hatband. I hear there is at
present a very great Ferment in Maudlin College which is workt
up toa great height by Newnam Ale and frequent Canvassings. I
suppose both parties before they engage will send into France for
their Foreign Succours. [am &c.

To Mr. Adams. Blois.t

a_—eeer

a ae ante te a aaa TCC CCC CCR

* Tickell papers. ° + Tickell papers.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 57

A long and entertaining letter to Congreve succeeds, including
one equally good to his patron. Of the dispute with M. L’Espag-
nol to which the short note to him refers, no particulars can now
be recovered, but the equally manly and temperate tone of Addison
is much in character. Dr. Newton’s name is not found among
the graduates of Oxford at this period, and no notices of him have
been met with. He is not described as the reverend, and was

probably of the medical profession.

MR. ADDISON TO MR. CONGREVE.

Dear Sir—I was very sorry to hear in your last Letter that you
were so terribly afflicted with the Gout, tho for your Comfort I
believe you are the first English poet that have bincomplimented
with the Distemper: I was myself at that time sick of a Feaver
which I believe proceeded from the same Cause; But at present
I am so well Recover’d that I can scarce forbear beginning my
Letter with Tully’s preface, Si vales bene est Ego quidem Valeo.
You must excuse me for giving you a Line of Latin now and then
since I find myself in some danger of Losing the Tongue, for I
perceive a new Language, like a new Mistress, is apt to make a
man forget all his old ones. I assure you I met with a very Re-
markable Instance of this nature at Paris in a-poor Irish-man that
had lost the little English he had brought over with him without
being able to learn any French in its stead: I askt him what Lan-
guage he spoke, he very Innocently answered me ‘no Language
Monsieur ;’ w" as I afterwards found were all the words he was
Master of in both Tongues. I am at present in a town where all
the Languages in Europe arg spoken except English, which is
not to be heard I believe within fifty miles of the place. My
greatest diversion is to run over in my Thoughts the Variety of
noble scenes I was entertain’d with before I came hither. I dont
believe, as good a poet as you are, that you can make finer Lan-
skips than those about the Kings houses, or with all yo" descrip-
tions build a more magnificent palace than Versailles. Lam how-
ever so singular as to prefer Fontainebleau to all the rest. It is
situated among rocks and woods that give you a fine variety of
Savage prospects. The King has Humor’d the Genius of the
place, and only made use of so much art as is necessary to Help
and regulate Nature without reforming her too much. The cas-
cades seem to break through the Clefts and cracks of Rocks that
are cover’d over with Moss, and look as if they were piled upon
one another by Accident. ‘There is an Artificial Wildness in the

58 THE LIFE OF

Meadows, Walks and Canals, and y* Garden instead of a Wall is
Fenc’d on the Lower End by a Natural mound of Rock-work that
strikes the Eye very Agreeably. For my part I think there is
something more charming in these rude heaps of Stone than in so
many Statues, and wou’d as. soon see a River winding through
Woods and Meadows as when it is toss’d up in such a Variety of
figures at Versailles. But I begin to talk like D". Lister. To
pass therefore from Works of Nature to those of Art: In my opinion
the pleasantest part of Versailles is the Gallery. Every one sees
on each side of it something that will be sure to please him, for
one of ’em commands a View of the finest Garden in the World,
and the other is wainscoted with Looking-Glass. The History of
the present King, till y° Year 16,* is painted on the Roof by Le
Brun, so that his Majesty has Actions enough by him to Furnish
another Gallery much Longer than the first. He is represented
with all the Terror and Majesty that you can Imagine in ev’ry
part of the picture, and sees his Young face as perfectly drawn
in the Roof as his present one in the side. The Painter has
represented His most Xtian Majesty under y* figure of Jupiter
throwing thunderbolts all about the cieling and striking terror into
y* Danube and Rhine that lie astonished and blasted w™ Lightning
a little above the Cornice. I believe by this time you are afraid
I shall carry you from room to room and lead you through the
whole palace ; truly if I had not tir’d you already I cou’d not for-
bear showing you a Stair-case that they say is the noblest in its
kind: but after so tedious a letter I shall conclude with a petition
to you that you would deliver the enclos’d to M". Montague, for I
am afraid of interrupting him with my Impertinence when he is
Engaged in more serious Affairs. »

Tu faciles aditus et mollia tempora novis.

Iam &c.
Blois, 10, 1699. To Mr. Congreve.

MR. ADDISON TO CHARLES MONTAGU, ESQ.

Honoured Sir—You will be surpris’d I dont question to find
among your Correspondencies in Foreign parts a Letter Dated
from Blois: but as much out of y* world as we are, I have often
the pleasure to hear you mention’d among the Strangers of other
Nations whose company I am here sometimes Engag’d in: I
have found since my leaving England that tis Impossible to talk

* The sixteenth year of his reign must be meant.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 59

IA

PLA LIDAR ALR ARI

of her with those that know there is such a Nation, but you
make a part of the Discourse. Your name comes in upon the
most different subjects, if we speak of the men of Wit or the men
of Business, of Poets or Patrons, Politicians or Parliament men.
I must confess I am never so sensible of my Imperfection in the,
French Language as when I wou’d express myself on so agree-
able a subject; tho’ if I understood it as well as my Mother
Tongue I shou’d want words on this occasion. I cant pretend to
trouble you with any News from this place, where the only Ad-
vantage I have besides getting the Language is to see the man-
ners and temper of the people, which I believe may be better
learn’t here than in Courts and greater Citys where Artifice and
Disguise are more in fashion. And truly by what I have yet
seen they are the Happiest nation in the World. Tis not in the
pow’r of Want or Slavery to make ’em miserable. There is
nothing to be met with in the Country but Mirth and Poverty.
Ev’ry one sings, laughs and starves. Their Conversation is
generally Agreeable ; for if they have any Wit or Sense, they are
sure to show it. They never mend upon a Second meeting, but
use all the freedom and familiarity at first Sight that a Long In-
timacy or Abundance of wine can scarce draw from an English-
man. ‘I'heir Women are perfect Mistresses in this Art of show-
ing themselves to the best Advantage. They are always gay
and sprightly and set off y* worst Faces in Europe with y° best
airs. Ev’ry one knows how to give herself as charming a Look
and posture as 8". Godfrey Kneller c' draw her in. J cannot end
my Letter without observing, that from what I have already seen
of the world I cannot but set a particular mark upon those who
abound most in the Virtues of their Nation and least with its Im-
perfections. When therefore see the Good sense of an English-
man in its highest perfection without any mixture of the Spleen,
I hope you will excuse me if I admire the Character and am
Ambitious of subscribing myself Hon" Sir, Yo" &ec.
To the Right Honorable Ch. Montague Esq’.
Blois 10, 1699,

MR. ADDISON A MONS" L’ESPAGNOL.

Sir.—I am always as slow in making an Enemy as a Friend
and am therefore very ready to come to an Accommodation with
you; but as for any satisfaction, I dont think it is due on either
side when y° Affront is mutual. You know very well that ac-
cording to the opinion of y* world a man would as soon be called

/
60 THE LIFE OF

a Knave as a fool, and I believe most people w* be rather thought
to want Legs than Brains. But I suppose whatever we said in
y° heat of discourse is not y* real opinion we have of each other
since otherwise you wou’d have scorn’d to have subscrib’d your-
self as I do at present S' y’ very, &e.

A Mons'. L’Espagnol. Blois 10. 1699.

MR. ADDISON TO DR. NEWTON.

S'™—I have a long time wisht for a pretence to write to you
and tho y* kindness I have received from you at London might
have bin a good Excuse for my returning you my Humble
Thanks, I cou’d not think it proper after your former civilities to
give you a fresh trouble by my acknowledgments. I must
therefore be forc’d to confess that tis nothing but y° desire I have
to improve myself by your advice that is y® occasion of my pre-
sent letter, for I am very willing to spend my time to y® best Ad-
vantage whilst I stay abroad, and should therefore be very glad
of a better directour than myself. My L* Chancellor’s having
bin pleas’d to procure me this opportunity of Travailing will I
hope be some motive with you to lend me your Assistance: I
am sure tis a very strong argument with myself to use all y® Ap-
plication possible that may make me answer his Lordp’s Ex-
pectations. I have already seen as I informed you in my last,
all y* IKKing’s palaces, and have now seen a great part of y* Coun-
try; I never thought there had been in y* world such an Ex-
cessive Magnificence or Poverty as I have met with in both
together. One can scarce conceive y*® pomp that appears in
everything about y* King, but at y® same time it makes half
his subjects go Bare-foot. The people are however y* happiest
in y® world, and enjoy from y* Benefit of their Climate and
natural Constitution such a perpetual Mirth and Easiness of tem-
per as even Liberty and Plenty cannot bestow on those of other
Nations. Devotion and Loyalty are ev’ry where at their greatest
height, but Learning seems to. run very low, especially in y®
younger people: for all the rising Geniuses have turn‘d their
Ambition another way, and endeavor’d to make their fortunes in
y* Army. The Belles Lettres in particular seem to be but short
hiv’d in France. Ev’ry Book that comes out has some pages to
show how much its Argument conduces to y* Honor of y* Holy
Church, & nothing is more usual than to hear ’em at y* Sorbonne
quote y* Depths of Ecclesiastical History and y* Fathers, in false
Latin. But 8", I have already troubled you with too long a Let-

JOSEPH ADDISON. 61

ter, and ought not to enlarge it any further than to beg your par-
don for writing it. Iam St &c.
Blois 10°. 1699. To D'. Newton.

Mr. Abraham Stanyan or Stanian, to whom the next letter from
Blois is addressed, was secretary to the English embassy at Paris,
and appears to have directed the attention of his friend to the
studies fitted to qualify him for the diplomatic department of the
public service.

MR. ADDISON TO MR. STANYAN.

Dear Sir—I thank you for y* news and poetry you were pleas’d
to send me, tho I must confess I did not like either of ’em. The
Votes had too much fire in’em and y®* Verses none at all: how-
ever I hope the first will prove as harmless to y* Ministers of
State as y* others are to y° Knights of y® Toast. It is y® first
speech of 8" John Falstaff’s that did not please me, but truly I
think y* merry Knight is grown very dull since his being in y®
other world. I really think myself very much obliged to you for
your directions, and if you would be a little particular in y® names
of y° Treaties that you mention, I shou’d have reason to look
upon your Correspondence as y* luckiest Adventure I am like to
meet with in all my T'ravails. The place where I am at present,
by reason of its situation on the Loire and its reputation for y®
Language, is very much Infested with Fogs and German Counts.
These last are a kind of Gentlemen that are just come wild out
of their country, and more noisy and senseless than any I have
yet had y° honor to be acquainted with. They are at y* Cabaret
from morning to night, and I suppose come into France on no
other account but to Drink. To make some Amends for all this,
there is not a word of English spoken in the whole town, so that
I shall be in danger of Losing my Mother-tongue unless you give
me leave to practise it on you sometimes in a letter, I might
here be very troublesome to you with my Acknowledgments, but
I hope there is no need of any formal professions to assure you
that I shall always be Dear S" &c.

To Abraham Stanian, Esq'®. Blois, Feb., 1699.* 1700.

A second letter to the same gentleman is inserted as a fragment,
the rest having been published by its writer in the Guardian, N°
nee OE EI 0 2 2 0 0000000 0 0 Oe

: * Tickell papers. ,

62 THE LIFE OF

nS ~~

104. A portion of the letter to Dr. Newton just given is likewise
found in that work, but could not be detached from it without
injury.

TO MR. STANYAN.

Dear Sir—I could not have let a whole Lent pass without troub-
ling you with a letter cou’d I have met with anything worth your
knowledge: but news has bin as scarce among us as flesh, and I
know you don’t much care to hear of mortification and repentance,
which have been the only business of this place for several weeks
past. Ev’rything at present looks very agreeable, and I assure
you I don’t envy your entertainments at Paris as long as this
season lasts. I wou’d as soon be in a neighboring Wood as at y°
Opera, and in my opinion find in it more beautiful scenes and
pleasanter music * * * * *

But as pleasant as y°® country is, I think of leaving it as soon
as I have rec‘ directions from England, which I expect ev’ry
Post. I shou’d have went to Italy before now, had not y* French
tongue stopt me, which has bin a Rub in my way harder to get
over than y°® Alps, but I hope y°® next time I have y* honor to
wait on you I shall be able to talk with you in y® language of y*
place. In y°® meantime, [am Dear 8S", Y™ &e.

To Abraham Stanyan, Esq"™., Secretary of ye Ambassy.

One of the earliest, and one of the best fruits of his travels, in
the judgment of Addison himself, was the intimate, affectionate,
and enduring friendship which they gave him the opportunity of
forming with Mr. Edward Wortley Montagu. This gentleman,
afterwards the husband of the brilliant and celebrated Lady Mary,
was grandson to that true hero’admiral the Earl of Sandwich, by
his younger son Sidney Montagu, who, on marrying the heiress
of Sir Francis Wortley, assumed her name. Born a second son,
though he afterwards became heir to the vast estates of the family,
Edward received a very complete classical education, became a
first-rate scholar, and took the degree of L.L.D, at Cambridge. It
is thus evident that his acquaintance with Addison was not an
academical one; probably it was either formed under the auspices
of Charles Montagu, Lord Halifax, in London, or under those of
the Ear] of Manchester, the English Ambassador at Paris, both
of whom were Wortley’s relations, and the first, his political
patron. He was a person of clear understanding and very de-
cided character, and in party a zealous and consistent Whig. The

JOSEPH ADDISON. 63
travels in which he was at this time engaged seem to have em-
ployed him longer, and to better purpose, than was usual among
his cotemporaries. On the accession of George I. he is said, but
not with perfect correctness, to have been the only privy council-
or capable of conversing with his sovereign in the French lan-
guage; and while he rendered himself a proficient in the study
of antiquities, more especially in buildings and inscriptions, he
viewed the laws and institutions of foreign states with the eyes of
a politician and future legislator. He probably joined Addison
at Chateaudun, which is in the direct road from Blois to Paris ; and
after some stay in that capital they traveled to Marseilles, crossed
together to Genoa, and perhaps made a part of their Italian tour
in company. The first of Addison’s letters to this gentleman
which has been preserved is the following :

TO MR. WORTLEY MONTAGU.
July 23%,

Dear Sir—I am now at Chateaudun, where I shall expect your
company, or a letter from you, with some impatience. Here is
one of the prettiest views in the world, if that can tempt you, and
a ruin of about fourscore houses, which I know you would think
a pleasanter prospect than the other, if it was not somodern. The
inhabitants tell you the fire that has been the occasion of it was
put out by a miracle: and that in its full rage it immediately
ceased at the sight of him that in his lifetime rebuked the winds
and the waves with a look. He was brought hither in the dis-
guise of a wafer, and was assisted, I dont question, with several
tons of water. It would have been a very fair occasion to have
signaliz’d your Holy Tear at Vendome, if the very sight of a
single drop could have quench’d such a terrible fire. This is all
the news I can write you from this place, where I have been
hitherto taken up with the company of strangers that lodge in the
same inn. I shall hope to see you within about a week hence ;
though I desire you not to hasten against your own inclinations ;
for, as much as [I esteem your company, I can’t desire it unless
it be for your own convenience. I am, dear sir, your very faith-
ful humble servant,

J. Appison.*

Aux Trois Rois a Chateaudun,
abe Bee tas RTE ee

* See for this and all following letters to the same correspondent, Addinsonia,

(2 yols. 12mo. London 1803,) where they are given in fac-simile from the ori-
ginals, stated to be in the possession of Mr. Phillips of St. Paul’s Church Yard,

See

64 THE LIFE OF ®

The second visit of Addison to Paris must have been far more
productive to him of pleasure and instruction than the first; since
he was now able to converse with ease in the language of the
country, and to prove to the distinguished men of letters who
received his visits, his full right of admission to the privileges of
free and equal conversation. How far he was able, notwithstanding
the weight of bashfulness with which he is imagined to have been
constantly oppressed, to raise himself into the favor and confidence
of such men as Boileau and Malebranche, will best appear from
a beautiful letter of his own, eminently characteristic of his unas-
suming temper as well as his literary accomplishment, and ad-
dressed to the exemplary Bishop Hough. ‘The first sentence
refers to the advancement of Philip Duke of Anjou, grandson of
Louis XIV., who was .proclaimed King of Spain in November,
1700. Boileau, who is mentioned as old, was now sixty-four.
Since the death of his dear friend Racine, he had almost ceased
to appear at court, paid few visits, and is said to have admitted’
to his presence only a small number of friends; his notice of the
young Englishman was therefore a very unusual favor, for which, =~
notwithstanding the remark of Johnson, it is pretty evident that
Addison must have been originally indebted to his Latin poems.
Malebranche, on the other hand, received the visits of almost every
lettered foreigner who arrived at Paris. His manners were cheer-
ful, simple, and complaisant, and his conversation usually turned,
as with Addison, on the subjects of his writings. His first sight
of the works of Des Cartes had formed an epoch in his life, since
he immediately devoted himself to the study of them, which he
pursued during ten years. He had recently written a paper on

Light and Colors for insertion in the Transactions of the Academy
of Sciences.

MR. ADDISON TO BISHOP HOUGH.

My Lord—I receiv’d y* honor of your L'ship’s Letter at Paris,
and am since got as far as Lyons in my way for Italy. 1 am at
present very well content to quit y* French conversation, which
since y* promotion of their young prince begins to grow Insup-
portable. ‘That w" was before y* vainest nation in y°® world is
now worse than ever. There is scarce a man in it that does not
give himself greater airs upon it, and look as well pleased as if
he had rec’d some considerable advancement in his own fortunes.
The best company I have met with since my being in this country
has been among y* men of Letters, who are generally easy of

JOSEPH ADDISON. 65

access, especially y° Religious who have a great deal of time on
their hands, and are glad to pass some of it off in y® society of
strangers. Their Learning for y* most part lies among y* old
schoolmen. Their public disputes run upon y* Controversys
between the Thomists and Scotists, which they manage with
abundance of Heat and False Latin. When I was at Paris I
visited y* Pére Malbranche, who has a particular esteem for y®
English Nation, where I believe he has more admirers than in his
own. The French dont care for following him through his Deep
Researches, and generally look upon all y* new Philosophy as
Visionary or Irreligious. Malbranche himself told me that he
was five and twenty years old before he had so mach as heard of
y* name of Des Cartes. His book is now reprinted with many
Additions, among which he show’d me a very pretty hypothesis
of Colours w" is different from that of Cartesius or Mr. Newton,
tho they may all three be True. He very much prais’d Mr.
Newton’s Mathematics, shook his head at the name of Hobbes,
and told me he thought him a pauvre esprit. He was very soli-
citous about y* English translation of his work, and was afraid it
had bin taken from an IJ] Edition of it. Among other Learned
men I had y* honour to be introduc’d to Mr. Boileau, who is now
retouching his works and putting ’em out in a new impression.
He is old and a little Deaf but talks incomparably well in his own
calling. He heartily hates an IJ] poet and throws himself into a
passion when he talks of any one that has not a high respect for
Homer and Virgil. I don’t know whether there is more of old
Age or Truth in his Censures on y* French writers, but he won-
derfully decrys y* present and extols very much his former cotem-
porarys, especially his two intimate friends Arnaud and Racine.
I askt him whether he thought Telemaque was not a good modern
piece: he spoke of it with a great deal of esteem, and said that
it gave us a better notion of Homer’s way of writing y" any trans-
lation of his works could do, but that it falls however infinitely
short of y* Odyssee, for Mentor, says he, is eternally Preaching;
but Ulysses shows us evry thing in his character and behaviour
y' y° other is still pressing on us by his precepts and Instructions.
He said y*® punishment of bad Kings was very well invented, and
might compare with anything of that nature in y* 6" Eneid, and
that y° deceit put on ‘Telemaque’s Pilot to make him misguide his
master is more artful and poetical than y* Death of Palinurus. I
mention his discourse on this Author because it is at present y®
Book y* is everywhere talked of, and has a great many partizans
for and against it in this country. I found him as warm in crying

66 THE LIFE OF
up this man and y® good poets in general, as he has bin in censur-
ing y° bad ones of his time, as we commonly observe y* man that
makes y°® Best friend is y° worst enemy. He talk’d very much
of Corneille, allowing him to be an excellent poet, but at y° same
time none of y* best Tragique writers, for that he declaimed too
frequently and made very fine Descriptions often when there was
no occasion for’em. Aristotle, says he, proposes two passions y*
are proper to be rais’d by Tragedy, Terrour and Pity, but Cor-
neille endeavours at a new one w" is Admiration. He instane’d
in his Pompey (w" he told us y* late Duke of Condy thought y°
best Tragedy y* was ever written) where in y° first scene y* King
of Egypt runs into a very pompous and long description of y*
battle of Pharsalia, tho’ he was then in a great hurry of affairs
and had not himself bin present at it. I hope your L'ship will
excuse me for this kind of Intelligence, for in so beaten a Road as
that of France it is impossible to talk of anything new unless we
may be allow’d to speak of particular persons, y‘ are always
changing and may therefore furnish different matter for as many
travellers as pass thro’ y® country. [am my L" Your L'ship’s &c.

To the Br of Lichfield and Coventry.*

The Earl of Manchester was not appointed secretary of state
till January 1701;+ it must therefore have been from some place
in Italy that Addison addressed to him a short letter of congratu-
lation, worth preservation chiefly for the offer of executing any of
his commands, which it conveys. Whether his services were
accepted or not, we have nothing to show; but it is probable that
his travels in Germany, hereafter to be related, were not without
some political objects, and many circumstances indicate the inti-
macy of his connection with this nobleman in after life. In fact
there is no feature in the biography of Addison more striking than
his power of exciting the admiration, and at the same time concili-
ating the esteem and affection, of the most considerable persons,

whether for rank, genius, or virtue, with whom he came even into
accidental contact.

MR. ADDISON TO THE EARL OF MANCHESTER.

My Lord—I was extremely glad to hear your L*ship had en-
tered on a post that would give you an occasion of advancing so

ae RAP AR ARIA AR AR RR ARIA ARAARAALRAN
PPAR ALO ~~ PARA AAA,

PRA PRA LARD ARE PAR ARAL

* Tickell papers.
t * Miss Aikin misdates this event by a year.2»—Macaulay.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 67

much y° Interest and Reputation of your Country ; but I now find
that I have more particular reasons to rejoice at your promotion,
since I hear you have lately done me the honour to mention me
kindly to my Lord Halifax. As this is not y° first favour you have
bin pleased to show me, I must confess I shou’d be very ambitious
of an opportunity to let you know how just a sense I have of y*
Gratitude and Duty that I owe to your L*ship. And if you think
me fit to receive any of your commands abroad, it shall not be for
want of Diligence or Zeal for your L'ship’s service if they are not
executed to your satisfaction. [I could not dispense with myself
from returning my most humble thanks for y* notice you have bin
pleased to take of me, as I dare not presume any longer to encroach
upon your time that is fill’d up with affairs of so much greater
consequence. I am my L'" &c.
* To my L‘ Manchester Principal Secretary of State.

A handsome and elegantly turned letter of compliment to Lord
Halifax follows next in time; it is without date of place.

MR. ADDISON TO LORD HALIFAX.

My Lord—I have for a long time denied myself the Honour of
writing to your Lordship, as knowing you have bin’So taken up
with matters of greater Importance that any Information I cou’d
give you of foreign Curiosities wou’d have seemed Impertinent:
but having lately heard that I am still kindly remembered by your
Lordship, I cou’d not forbear troubling you with a letter, least
what I design for Respect shou’d look too much like Ingratitude.
As I first of all undertook my Travails by your L‘ships encourage-
ment, I have endeavour’d to pursue ’em in sucha manneras might
make me best answer your Expectations; and though I dare not
boast of any great Improvements that I have made in ’em, I am
sure there is nothing that I more desire than an opportunity of
showing my utmost Abilitys in your L'ship’s service. I could
almost wish y* it was less for my advantage than it is to be entirely
devoted to your L'ship, that I might not seem to speak so much
out of Interest as Inclination: for I must confess y* more J see of
mankind y° more I learn to value an extraordinary character, which
makes me more ambitious than ever of showing myself my L"

Your L'ships &c.
To my Lé Halifax March 1703.*

PPR PPL

* All the letters in this chapter are transcribed Jiteratim from the Tickell
papers.

68 THE LIFE OF

Se ———————e——e—eeeeeeee

CHAPTER IV.
1700 to 1702.

Account of Addison’s travels in Italy. He reaches Geneva on his return.
Letter to Wortley Montagu. Epistle from Italy. Letter to Lord Halifax.
Cause of his detention at Geneya. His prospects destroyed by the death of
King William. Travels in Switzerland. Proceeds to Vienna. Forms a
friendship with Mr. Stepney. Account of him. :

Tne volume of travels which was published by Addison after
his return from the Continent, comprising his tour in Italy and a
brief account of his journey through Switzerland, is almost the
sole record we possess of a portion of his life which his classical
enthusiasm and his love for the beauties of scenery, must have
rendered rich beyond any other in instruction and delight. On
this account, we might be tempted to wish that the work had
answered more to the character of a journal, or what in modern
phrase is termed a personal narrative. It would indeed have grati-
fied our curiosity to know in what proportions he divided his time
among the principal cities of Italy; what society he chiefly fre-
quented, and especially how far he succeeded in introducing him:
self to natives of the country distinguished either in politics or in
letters ;—or whether indeed this was any object of his endeavors,.
which the total silence of his narrative respecting living persons
renders very doubtful. But we have great reason to congratulate
ourselves on what we possess. In the way of incident, the author
had probably nothing very striking to relate ; and whether design-
edly or not, he has traced out for us in his observations a very
perfect map of his own mind. Temper, manners, tastes, acquire-
ments, principles and genius, are all distinctly indicated, and even .
the modest seclusion in which the author seems to sequester him-
self and his personal concerns, is an additional trait of character,
and perhaps the most graceful of the whole.

An outline of his journey, with a few extracts, will best illus-
trate what is here advanced. It was in December 1700 that he
embarked at Marseilles for Genoa, which he gained after a tem-
pestuous and dangerous voyage, and whence he proceeded through
Milan, Venice, Ravenna and Loretto to Rome; thence to Naples
by land, back to Rome by sea, and homeward through Florence,

JOSEPH ADDISON. 69

Bologna and Turin to Geneva ; where he arrived exactly one year
from his quitting Marseilles, and two and a half after his departure
from England. The first remarkable passage in his volume is the
following :—

«There are but two towns in the dominions of the Prince of
Monaco. The chief of them is situate on a rock which runs out
into the sea, and is well fortified by nature. It was formerly under
the protection of the Spaniards, but not many years since drove out
the Spanish garrison and received a French one, which consists
at present of five hundred men, paid and officered by the French
king. The officer who showed me the palace, told me, with a
great deal of gravity, that his master and the King of France,
amidst all the confusions of Europe, had ever been good friends
and allies.” The drift of this sarcasm at once on the insignificance
and the French dependence of the Prince of Monaco, will be evi-
dent on calling to mind that the queen of James II. was a princess
of this house.

A popular sentiment is thus introduced: «The Duke of Doria’s
palace has the best outside of any in Genoa..... there is one
room..... that is hung with tapestry, in which are wrought the
figures of the great persons that the family has produced; as per-
haps there is no house in Europe that can show a longer line of
heroes that have still acted for the good of their country. Andrew
Doria has a statue erected to him at the entrance of the Doge’s
palace with the glorious title of Deliverer of the Commonwealth ;
and one of his family another, that calls him its Preserver. In
the Doge’s palace are the rooms where the great and little coun-
cil, with the two colleges, hold their assemblies ; but as the state
of Genoa is very poor, though some of its members are extremly
rich, so one may observe infinitely more splendor and magnifi-
cence in particular persons’ houses than in those that belong to
the public. But we find in most of the states of Europe, that the
people show the greatest marks of poverty, where the governors
live in the greatest magnificence..... The republic of Genoa
has a crown and sceptre for its Doge, by reason of their conquest
of Corsica, where there was formerly a Saracen king. ‘This in-
deed gives their ambassadors a more honorable reception at some
courts, but, at the same time, may teach their people to have a

-mean notion of their own form of government, and is a tacit ac-
knowledgment that monarchy is more honorable. ‘The old Ro-
mans, on the contrary, made use of a very barbarous kind of
politics to inspire their people with a contempt of kings, whom
they treated with infamy, and dragged at the wheels of their

70 THE LIFE OF

triumphal chariots.” We perhaps see here the germ of that
passage of his Cato,
. «¢ A senator of Rome, while Rome survived,

Would not have match’d his daughter with a king.”

On more than one occasion a classical, we might say pedantical, |
contempt for Gothic architecture breaks out; “I saw between
Pavia and Milan the convent of Carthusians, which is very spa-
cious and beautiful. Their church is extremely fine, and curiously
adorned, but of a Gothic structure.”

St. Charles Boromeo’s shrine at Milan suggests the following ~
just and acute reflections: “He was but two-and-twenty years
old when he was chosen Archbishop of Milan, and forty-six at his
death ; but made so good use of so short a time, by his works of
charity and munificence, that his countrymen bless his memory,
which is still fresh among them. He was canonized about a
hundred years ago; and indeed if this honor were due to any -
man, I think such public-spirited virtues may lay a juster claim
to it than a sour retreat from mankind, a fiery zeal against hetero-
doxies, a set of chimerical visions or of whimsical penances, which
are generally the qualifications of Roman saints..... One would
wonder that Roman Catholics who are for this kind of worship,
do not generally address themselves to the holy apostles—but
these are at present quite out of fashion in Italy, where there is
scarce a great town which does not pay its devotions in a more
particular manner to some one of their own making. This ren-
ders it very suspicious that the interests of particular families, |
religious orders, convents, or churches, have too great a sway in
their canonizations. When I was at Milan, I saw a book newly
published, that was dedicated to the present head of the Boromean
family, and entitled, ‘A discourse on the humility of Jesus Christ,
and of St. Charles Boromeo.’

“In the court of Milan, as in several others of Italy, there are
many who fall in with the dress and carriage of the French. One
may however observe a kind of awkwardness in the Italians,
which easily discovers the airs they give themselves not to be
natural..... The French are always open, familiar, and talka-
tive: the Italians on the contrary are stiff, ceremonious, and
reserved.. In France, every one aims ata gayety and sprightli-
ness of behavior, and thinks it an accomplishment to be brisk
and lively. The Italians, notwithstanding their natural fieriness
of temper, affect always to appear sober and sedate; insomuch
that one sometimes meets young men walking the streets with

JOSEPH ADDISON. 71

spectacles on their noses, that they may be thought to have im-
paired their sight by much study, and seem more grave and judi-
cious than their neighbors. This difference of manners proceeds
chiefly from difference of education. In France it is usual to
bring their children into company, and to cherish in them, from
their infancy, a kind of forwardness and assurance; besides that,
the French apply themselves more universally to their exercises
than any other nation in the world, so that one seldom sees a
young gentleman in France that does not fence, dance, and ride
in some tolerable perfection. These agitations of the body do not
only give them a free and easy carriage, but have a kind of me-
chanical operation on the mind, by keeping the animal spirits
always awake and in motion. But what contributes most to this
light, airy humor of the French, is the free conversation that is
allowed them with their women, which does not only communi-
cate to them a certain vivacity of temper, but makes them endea-
vor after such a behavior as is most taking with the sex.” The
writer goes on to remark the general aversion entertained for the
French by the common people of Italy, which he accounts for partly
by this difference in the humors and manners of the two nations,
partly by the matter of exasperation which, being great politicians,
they find in many particulars of the conduct of the French king
towards different states, adding: “That however which [ take to
be the principal motive, among most of the, Italians, for their
favoring the Germans above the French, is this, that they are
entirely persuaded it is for the interest of Italy to have Milan and
Naples rather in the hands of the first than of the other. One
may generally observe, that the body of a people has juster views
for the public good, and pursues them with greater uprightness
than the nobility and gentry, who have so many private expecta-
tions and particular interests, which hang like a false bias upon
their judgments, and may possibly dispose them to sacrifice the
good of their country to the advancement of their own fortunes.”
The last passage is probably an addition made to his original notes
at the time of publication, when the war with France had been
renewed, and it was a leading object with the Whig party to sup-
port the cause of the house of Austria against the projects of
Louis XIV.

From Milan to Venice, the face of the country, its lakes, rivers,
mulberry trees and vineyards are the principal objects of remark,
and descriptive passages from Virgil and Claudian are thickly
interspersed. At Venice, again, the tone is changed; and we have
a grave exposition of the circumstances which render this cele-

72 THE LIFE OF

brated republic one of the most secure of cities, and a detailed
account of what would now be called its statistics, which must
apparently have been the result of careful examination and many
personal inquiries. He partook also of the pleasures of the carni-
val, and criticises the theatrical entertainments with some severity ;
observing, however, with respect to the dialogue of the comedies
that it is “no wonder that the poets of so jealous and reserved a
nation fail in such conversations on the stage, as they have no pat-
terns of it in nature.”’
From Rimini he traveled twelve miles out of his way to visit
the miniature republic of St. Marino, from which, he says, one
may form “an idea of Venice in its first beginnings, when it had
only a few heaps of earth for its dominions, or of Rome itself,
when it had yet covered but one of its seven hills.” By no part of
this work has the author gained more applause than by his ele-
gant, but perhaps somewhat elaborate, description of this little
state. A quiet vein of mock-heroic humor runs through it; and
we seem to be reading a parody, till we reach this manly con-
cluding reflection. ‘The people are esteemed very honest and
rigorous in the execution of justice, and seem to live more happy
and contented among their rocks and snows, than others of the
Italians do in the pleasantest valleys of the world. Nothing indeed
can be a greater instance of the natural love that mankind has for
liberty, and of their aversion to arbitrary government, than such a
savage mountain covered with people, and the Campania of Rome,
which lies in the same country, almost destitute of inhabitants.”
The riches of the Holy house and treasury of Loretto, surpassed
his expectation, he says, as much as other sights had usually fallen
short of it. ‘Silver can scarcely find an admission, and gold itself
looks but poorly among such an incredible number of precious
stones.”’ He regards it as certain, however, that the pope would
make use of these treasures in case of danger to the holy see
from an unfortunate war with the Turk, or a powerful league
among the Protestants;—he had before remarked, that the place is
weakly guarded, and might easily be surprised by a Christian
prince who has ships continually passing to and fro without sus-
picion; but that such an act would cause great horror, and be
resented by all the Catholic princes in Europe. Addison was per-
haps the first to suggest, what Middleton has since shown much
more in detail, the pagan origin of most of the popular superstitions
of papal Italy. He says, of the house of Loretto, that whoever
were the inventors of the imposture, they seem to have taken the
hint from the veneration of the Romans for the cottage of Romulus,

JOSEPH ADDISON. 73
which stood on the mount of the capitol, and was repaired from
time to time as it fell to decay.

Remains of antiquity, together with classical images and quota-
tions, crowd upon him at the sight of Clitumnus, Nar, and the
falls of Velinus; which last he depicts well and clearly, ending
with the remark: “I think there is something more astonishing
in this cascade than in all the waterworks of Versailles.” A
charming passage of description shows us his fine imagination feed-
ing itself on those images of the beautiful and romantic in natural
scenery, which he has reproduced so often, under various forms
and with so much evident delight, in the most poetical of his prose
lucubrations.

“The fatigue of our crossing the Appenines and of our whole
journey from Loretto to Rome, was very agreeably relieved by the
variety of scenes we passed through. For, not to mention the rude
prospect of rocks rising one above another, of the deep gutters worn
in the sides of them by torrents of rain and snow-water, or the long
channels of sand winding about their bottoms, that are sometimes
filled with so many rivers; we saw, in six days’ traveling, the
several seasons of the year in their beauty and perfection. We
were sometimes shivering on the top of a bleak mountain, and a
little while after basking in a warm valley, covered with violets
and almond trees in blossom, the bees already swarming over them,
though but in the month of February. Sometimes our road led
us through groves of olives, or by gardens of oranges, or into seve-
ral hollow apartments among the rocks and mountains, that look
like so many natural green-houses; as being always shaded with
a great variety of trees and shrubs that never lose their verdure.””

On reaching Rome, our traveler contented himself for the pre-
sent with a view of “the two masterpieces of ancient and modern
architecture,’ the Pantheon and St. Peter’s, reserving the rest for
a leisurely survey on his return from Naples.

Nothing struck him so much, on his way to this city, as the
beauty of the country and the extreme poverty and fewness of the
inhabitants; and finding this desolation to appear nowhere more
than in the pope’s territories, he enters into a very able and can-
did inquiry into the causes of it ; concluding with the opinion, that
although the miseries of the people “ may arise, in a great measure
out of the arbitrariness of the government, they are chiefly to be
ascribed to the very genius of the Roman Catholic religion, which
here shows itself in its perfection ;’’ and he adds a perspicuous
statement of the circumstances to which it gives rise, and the

manner of its operation.

44 THE LIFE OF

«The greatest pleasure I took in my journey from Rome to
Naples,’ he says, “was in seeing the fields, towns, and rivers,
that have been described by so many classic authors, and have
been the scenes of so many great actions; for this whole road is
extremely barren of curiosities ;”’ and it is delightful to follow him
through the crowd of poetical illustrations which he proceeds to
pour forth over what must else have proved a dry itinerary.

Amid some brief remarks on the excess of superstition prevail-
ing at modern Naples, and the nature and policy of its Spanish
government, he returns to the fair Parthenope, and again recreates
himself on poetry and description. The curiosities, both artificial
and natural, in the neighborhood of Naples, occupy a considera-
ble space. At the grotto del Cane we find him performing a
variety of experiments, and borrowing “+a weatherglass,”’ in order
to investigate the nature of the deleterious vapor. His notions
are of course crude, for nothing, in fact, was then known, even
to the best chemists, of the real nature of gaseous substances; but
we have a striking indication of a kind of acuteness capable of
having carried him far in natural philosophy, had he turned the
force of his mind in this direction, in his concluding observation,
that “there is an unctuous clammy vapor that arises from the
stum of grapes, when they lie mashed together in a vat, which
puts out a light when dipped into it; and perhaps would take
away the breath of weaker animals were it put to the trial.’ A
few such experiments, and carbonic acid gas would have been
discovered as the common cause of tle phenomena of the grotto,
and of the mash tub!

Of Vesuvius he says, that “ there is nothing about Naples, nor
indeed in any part of Italy, which deserves our admiration so
much as this mountain ;” he ascended it, and has given a descrip-
tion of what he saw, which, it is remarkable, is as dry matter-of-
fact, as if he had beheld nothing with the eyes of a poet. After
a thorough survey of the objects of curiosity about Naples, he took
a felucca for his return to Rome, and adds, “As in my journey
from Rome to Naples I had Horace for my guide, so I had the
pleasure of seeing my voyage from Naples to Rome described by
Virgil.” This voyage is particularly rich in poetical illustra-
tions.

The account of Rome is the most elaborate portion of the work,
and that in which the scholar and the antiquary are most con-
spicuous. He certainly made a long abode in the Eternal City,
where he was too happy to take refuge from the degraded present
in the contemplation of the glory-beaming past. The following

JOSEPH ADDISON. 73
are his preliminary remarks: ‘There are in Rome two sets of
antiquities, the Christian and the heathen. ‘The former, though
of a fresher date, are so embroiled with fable and legend, that one
receives but little satisfaction from searching into them. The
other give a great deal of pleasure to such as have met with them
before in ancient authors, fora man who is in Rome can scarce
‘see an object that does not call to mind a piece of a Latin poet or
historian. Among the remains of old Rome, the grandeur of the
commonwealth shows itself chiefly in works that were either
necessary or convenient, such as temples, highways, aqueducts,
walls, and bridges of the city. On the contrary, the magnificence
of Rome under the emperors, was rather for ostentation or luxury
than any real usefulness or necessity, as in baths, amphitheatres,
circuses, obelisks, triumphant pillars, arches and mausoleums. . . .
These several remains have been so copiously described by abund-
ance of travelers, and other writers, that it is very difficult to make
any discoveries on so beaten a subject. There is, however, so
much to be observed in so spacious a field of antiquities, that it is
almost impossible to survey them without taking new hints, and
‘raising different reflections, according as a man’s natural turn of
thoughts, or the course of his studies directs him.

“No part of the antiquities of Rome pleased me so muchas |
the ancient statues, of which there is still an incredible variety.
The workmanship is often the most exquisite of ,anything in its
kind. A man would wonder how it were possible for so much
life to enter into marble, as may be discovered in some of the best
of them; and even in the meanest one has the satisfaction of see-
ing the faces, postures, airs and dress of those that have lived so
many ages before us.’’ From the last clause it might be conjec-
tured, as is the fact, that on the whole our traveler beheld these
remains of ancient art rather with the eyes of the antiquary and
commentator, than those of the connoisseur; the descriptions how-
ever are the more informing on this account; and medals, as well
as passages of the poets, are brought to illustrate some curious
points of learning.

Addison appears from several indications to have been a lover
of music, although Sir J. Hawkins denies him any skill in it; and
he has some observations on the ancient instruments, as shown
in sculpture, which appear new.

A letter, without date of place, or address, but manifestly writ-
ten from Rome, and no doubt genuine, from the style, which is
completely Addison’s, may here be inserted, as throwing some
light on his pursuits in this city.

eee

76 THE LIFE OF
ORT in eee as

Dear Sir—I hope this will find you safe at Geneva; and that
the adventure of the rivulet, which you have so well celebrated
in your last, has been the worst that you have met with in your
journey thither. I can’t but envy your being among the Alps,
where you may see frost and snow in the dog-days: we are here
quite burnt up, and are at least ten degrees nearer the sun than
when you left us. Iam very well satisfied that twas in August
that Virgil wrote his “O, qui me gelidis sab montibus Hemi!”
&c. Our days at present, like those in the first chapter of
Genesis, consist only of the evening and the morning; for the
Roman noons are as silent as the midnights in other countries.
But among all these inconveniences, the greatest I suffer is from
your departure, which is more afflicting to me than the canicule.
I am forced, for want of better company, to converse with pic-
tures, statues and medals; for you must know, I deal very much
in ancient coin, and can count out asum in sesterces with asmuch
ease as in pounds sterling. [ama great critic in rust, and can
tell you the age of it at first sight: Iam only in some danger of
losing my acquaintance with our English money, for at present
Iam much more used to the Roman. If you glean up any of our
country news, be so kind as to forward it this way. Pray give
[ ‘| Mr. Dashwood, and my very humble service to Sir 'Tho-
mas, and accept of the same yourself, from,

Dear sir, your most affectionate humble servant,
J. Appison.*
Aug. 7.

My Lord Bernard, &c., give their service,

In his survey of “towns lying within the neighborhood of
Rome,” our author has given fresh examples of that difficult art
of painting landscape by words, in which he was certainly one of
the very earliest English proficients ; much as we are now tempted
to regard a feeling for the picturesque and skill in describing it,
in the light of a national endowment. A prospect at the dis-
tance of about a mile from the town of Tivoli, is thus displayed.
“Jt opens on one side into the Roman Campania, where the eye
loses itself on a smooth spacious plain. On the other side is a
more broken and interrupted scene, made up of an infinite
variety of inequalities and shadowings that naturally arise from
an agreeable mixture of hills, groves and valleys. But the most

Fh Addisoniana, p. 128. The original is stated to be preserved in the Bodleian
ibrary. ;

JOSEPH ADDISON. 17
0 EE LA Ee
enlivening part of all is the river Teverone, which you see at
about a quarter of a mile’s distance throwing itself down a pre-
cipice, and falling by several cascades from one rock to another,
till it gains the bottom of the valley, where the sight of it would
be quite lost, did it not sometimes discover itself through the
breaks and openings of the woods that grow about it... ....
After a very turbulent and noisy course of several miles among
the rocks and mountains, the Teverone falls into the valley above
mentioned, where it recovers its temper, as it were, by little and
little, and after many turns and windings glides peaceably into the
Tiber.”

In an exquisite description of the cathedral of Sienna, we may
perceive “a treacherous inclination,” taking part with the “ false
beauties” of Gothic architecture, more warmly than is quite
consistent with the exclusiveness of his classical principles: his
sensibility was evidently too strong for his system. “'There is
nothing in this city so extraordinary as the cathedral, which a
manmay view with pleasure after he has seen St. Peter’s, though
*tis quite of another make, and can only be looked upon as one of
the masterpieces of Gothic architecture. When a man sees the
prodigious pains and expense that our forefathers have been at
in these barbarous buildings, one cannot but fancy to himself
what miracles of architecture they would have ‘left us, had they
only been instructed in the right way. . . . One would wonder
to see the vast labor that has been laid out on this single cathe-
dral. The very spouts are loaden with ornaments, the windows
are formed like so many scenes of perspective, with a multitude
of little pillars retiring behind one another; the great columns are
finely engraven, with fruits and foliage that run twisting about
them from the very top to the bottom; the whole body of the
church is checkered with different lays of black and white mar-
ble, the pavement curiously cut out in designs and scripture-stos
ries, and the front covered with such a variety of figures, and
overrun with so many little mazes and labyrinths of sculpture, that
nothing in the world can make a prettier show to those who pre-
fer false beauties and affected ornaments, to a noble and majestic
simplicity.”

The view of Lucca suggests the following sentiment: “ It is
very pleasant to see how the small territories of this little republic
are cultivated to the best advantage, so that one cannot find the
least spot of ground that is not made to contribute its utmost to
the owner. In all the inhabitants there appears an air of cheer-
fulness and plenty, not often to be met with in those of the coun-

78 THE LIFE OF
eT a a a ttt ant
tries which lie: about them. There is but one gate for strangers
to enter at, that it may be known what numbers of them are in
‘the town. Over it is written in letters of gold Libertas.”

The principalities of Modena and Parma call forth other re-
marks. “Their subjects would live in great plenty amidst so
rich and well-cultivated a soil, were not the taxes and impositions
so very exorbitant; for the courts are much too splendid and
magnificent for the territories that lie about them .... it happens
very ill at present to be born under one of these petty sovereigns,
that will still be endeavoring, at his subjects’ cost, to equal the
pomp and grandeur of greater princes, as well as to outvie those
of his own rank. For this reason, there are no people in the
world who live with more ease and prosperity than the subjects
of little commonwealths, as, on the contrary, there are none who
suffer more under the grievances of a hard government, than the
subjects of little principalities.”

At Asti, the frontier town of Savoy, our traveler came at length
in sight of the Po, which awakened in him a crowd of poetical
recollections ; he proceeded thence to Turin, and onward, through
a country still bearing distinct traces of the devastation of French
armies, to Geneva, whence he addressed to his friend Wortley
Montagu, the following letter:

Dear Sir—I am just arrived at Geneva by a very troublesome
journey over the Alps, where I have been for some days together
shivering among the eternal snows. My head is still giddy with
mountains and precipices, and you can’t imagine how much I am.
pleased with the sight of a plain, that is as agreeable to me at
present, as a shore was about a year ago, after our tempest at
Genoa. During my passage o’er the mountains, I made a rhym-
ing epistle to my Lord Halifax, which perhaps I will trouble you
with the sight of, if I don’t find it to be nonsense upon a review.
You will think it, I dare say, as extraordinary a thing to make a
copy of verses in a voyage o’er the Alps as to write an heroic
poem in a hackney coach, and I believe Iam the first that ever
thought of Parnassus on Mount Cenis. At Florence I had the
honor to have about three days’ conversation with the Duke of
Shrewsbury, which made me some amends for the missing Sir
‘Th. Alston’s company, who had taken another road for Rome. I
find Iam very much obliged to yourself and him, but will not be
so troublesome in my acknowledgments as I might justly be. I
shall only assure you that I think Mr. Montagu’s acquaintance
the luckiest adventure that I could possibly have met with in my

JOSEPH ADDISON. 29
travels. I suppose you are in England as full of politics as we
are of religion at Geneva. I hope you will give me a little touch
of it in your letters.

The rake Wood is grown a man of a very regular life and con-
versation, and often begins our good friends’ health in England.
I am, dear sir, your most affectionate humble servant,

J. Appison.*

10 9% 1701,

‘Tt will be difficult to obtain pardon for our traveler, from the
modern lover of the picturesque, for the horror here expressed of
the most awfully sublime scenery in Europe, and the rapture
with which he appears to have once more welcomed the sight of
a plain. It may be recollected, however, that the month was De-
cember, and modern roads and modern accommodations as yet
undreamed of amid these frowning solitudes. That he was the
first traveler who could boast of having thought of Parnassus on
Mount Cenis, is likely to have been quite true, in an age when
mountains were regarded as blemishes on the face of nature, and
when so professed a man of taste as Evelyn, speaks of Salisbury
plain as the most enchanting prospect that the eye could rest on.
Addison, it may also be pleaded, was eminently a classical tra-
veler, and in exchanging the soft airs, smiling fields and purple
vineyards of Italy, for the storms, rocks and glaciers of the Swiss
Alps, he had likewise bid adieu to all associations inspiring to the
scholar and the antiquary.

It is precisely these associations, uniting with an ardent love of
liberty, which have breathed into the Epistle to Lord Halifax from
Italy, which he was at this time composing, a spirit and a charm
which animate no other of his poems. Who does not share in the
genuine ecstasy with which he exclaims,

*¢ Poetic fields encompass me around,
And still I seem to tread on classic ground ;
For here the Muse so oft her harp has strung,
That not a mountain rears its head unsung ;
Renown’d in verse each shady thicket grows,
And ev’ry stream in heav’nly numbers flows.
How am I pleas’d to search the hills and woods
For rising springs and celebrated floods!
To View the Nar, tumultuous in his course,
And trace the smooth Clitumnus to his source,

To see the Mincio draw his wat’ry store
Through the long windings of a fruitful shore,

* Addisoniana, —

80 THE LIFE OF
eR AAR eee @9@@>OoO@a@a—@D@D*SO _;_0bwWeEOmaeEeEereeereeess err ee ees, es sSc<=E 0 OOO
And hoary Albula’s infected tide
O’er the warm bed of smoking sulphur glide.
Fir’d with a thousand raptures I survey
Eridanus through flow*ry meadows stray,
The king of floods! that rolling o’er the plains
The tow’ring Alps of half their moisture drains,
And proudly swol’n with a whole winter’s snows
Distributes wealth and plenty as he flows.”

It should not escape remark, that the very phrase “classic
ground,” which from the familiarity of repetition has to us so
trite a sound, here makes its appearance, in all probability, for the
first time; and it is by no means the only felicitous expression
with which Addison, in his poetical capacity, has enriched our
language. In the praises of Italy which follow, he has happily
adapted new figures to the canvas supplied him by Virgil, and
the passage which closes up the splendid enumeration as with a
long sigh, is not easily to be paralleled in moral poetry for energy
or for pathos.

‘¢ How has kind heav’n adorn’d the happy land, =
And scatter’d blessings with a wasteful hand!
But what avails her unexhausted stores,

Her blooming mountains and her sunny shores,
With all the gifis that heav’n and earth impart,
The smiles of nature and the charms of art,
While proud Oppression in her valleys reigns,
And Tyranny usurps her happy plains?

The poor inhabitant beholds in vain

The red’ning orange and the swelling grain;
Joyless he sees the growing oils and wines,
And in the myrtle’s fragrant shade repines :

Starves, in the midst of nature’s bounty curst,
And in the loaden vineyard dies for thirst.??

The apostrophe to Liberty which follows, well introduces the
praises of England, and the animated passage beginning,

** On foreign mountains may the sun refine
The grape’s soft juice and mellow it to wine,??

serves as preface to a skillful transfusion of Virgil’s

‘* Excudent alii spirantia mollius era.”

Politics seldom mingle happily with poetry, and it must be
confessed that the celebration of King William’s foreign policy
which follows is somewhat of an anticlimax. Nor can such an
expression as “lines like Virgil’s or like yours,’ addressed to
Lord Halifax, pass for less than egregious flattery. One circum-
stance alone mitigates our disgust; Halifax was at this time out
of office and under disgrace, having been addressed against and
impeached by the House of Commons, though still favored by

JOSEPH ADDISON. 8t

teas

the king, and afterwards justified by the peers.* The letter
addressed by Addison to this statesman at the same critical period
of his affairs, further attests, and in plain prose, the sincerity of
his attachment to his early patron.

It was in the month of December, 1701, as appears from the
date of his letter to Wortley Montagu, that Addison arrived at
_ Geneva; and it was here that he paused in his homeward journey,
as Tickell informs us, on receiving “advice from his friends that
he was pitched upon to attend the army under Prince Eugene,
who had just begun the war in Italy, as secretary from his ma-
jesty.”” He was still in waiting at this city when the disastrous
news of the death of King William on March 8, 1702, arrived to
sweep away all his hopes and projects. Not only was he robbed
by this event of the privilege, which he would have known how
to prize, of attending on a hero, but the dismissal of his Whig
friends from office, which speedily followed under the new reign,
shut out for the present all his prospects of advancement at home;
and to add to his misfortune, his pension ceased as we have seen,
with the life of the sovereign by whom it had been granted.
Tickell, however, has not thought proper to point attention to this
critical state of his affairs, but dismisses the subject with the cold
remark, that “he had leisure to make the tour of Germany in his
way home.’ Of his private letters we have none which throw
any light on his feelings or projects in this conjuncture: that to
Wortley Montagu already cited, was written before his reverse of
fortune, and so no doubt was one addressed to Congreve, and de-
scribing in the same tone of feeling the miseries of a winter pas-
sage of the Alps, which he afterwards gave to Steele for insertion
in the Tatler No. 93. A letter addressed to his friend Mr. Dash-
wood some months later, but still from Geneva, proves only that
worldly anxieties had not the power to repress the playful humor
of his pen.

_—~

*

MR. ADDISON TO CHAMBERLAIN DASHWOOD, ESQ.

Dear Sir—About three days ago Mr. Bocher put a very pretty
snufi-box in my hand. I was nota little pleas’d to hear that it
belonged to myself, and was much more so when I found it was a
present from a Gentleman that I have so great an honour for. You

Sete ti P58 ORS SE TR RE te a tes bee D 85S eh SE

* <¢ Miss Aikin says that the Epistle was written before Halifax was justified by
the Lords. This is a mistake. The Epistle was written in December, 1701;
the impeachment had been dismissed in the preceding June.’’—Macaulay.

6

82 THE LIFE OF

ae eS eee
did not probably foresee that it wou’d draw on you y® trouble of a
Letter, but you must blame yourself for it. For my part I can no
more accept of a Snuff-box without returning my Acknowlege-
ments, than I can take snuff without sneezing after it. This last I
must own to you is so great an absurdity that I should be ashamed
to confess it, were not [ in hopes of correcting it very speedily.
I am observ’d to have my Box oft’ner in my hand than those that
have bin used to one these twenty years, for I cant forbear taking
it out of my pocket whenever I think of Mr. Dashwood. You
know Mr. Bays recommends snuff as a great provocative to Wit,
but you may produce this Letter as a standing Evidence against
him. I have since y® beginning of it taken above a dozen pinches,
and still find myself much more inclin’d to sneeze than to jest.
From whence I conclude that Wit and Tobacco are not insepara-
ble, or to make a Pun of it, tho’ a Man may be master of a snuff-
box,

*¢ Non cuicunque datum est habere Nasam.’?

I should be affraid of being thought a Pedant for my Quotation did
not I know that y® Gentleman I am writing to always carrys a
Horace in his pocket. But whatever you may think me, pray S*
do me y® Justice to esteem me your most &c.

To Chamberlain Dashwood Esq. Geneva July 1702.*

The published travels of Addison afford no hint of his personal
circumstances ; the dates of his arrival at Geneva and departure
from it are both omitted, and the narrative proceeds with his tour
through the Swiss cantons.

This portion of the work exhibits its author more distinctly than
perhaps any other, in the character of an observing traveler. The
country afforded few hints for classical allusion or quotation, and
he had only to note the objects which offered themselves to his
senses, and to record such information concerning the present
situation of the country as his leisurely survey of it had enabled
him to collect. The manner however in which he has performed
this, is characteristic of him in many respects,

A minute, and what may be called an instructive, description is
given of Geneva and its lake; and without giving way to the
raptures felt or feigned by modern tourists, the writer sufficiently
indicates his sensibility to the beauty, and the singularity at least
of the surrounding scenes. After some remarks on the effects of

* Tickell papers.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 83
the Alps on the climate and aspect of Geneva, « These moun-
tains,”’ he adds, “ likewise very much increase their summer heats,
and make up an horizon that has something in it very singular
and agreeable. On one side you have the long tract of hills that
goes under the name of Mount Jura, covered with vineyards and
pasturage, and on the other huge precipices of naked rocks rising
up in a thousand odd figures, and cleft in some places so as to
discover high mountains of snow that lie several leagues behind
them. Towards the South the hills rise more insensibly, and
leave the eye a vast uninterrupted prospect for many miles. But
the most beautiful view of all is the lake, and the borders of it that
lie North of the town.”’ In a voyage of five days round the lake,
touching on the several towns that lie on its coasts, he describes
all that he found remarkable, not forgetting to observe that in those
on the side of Savoy “there is nothing but misery and poverty.”
The convent of Ripaille had a forest cut into walks, at one side of
which “ you have a near prospect of the Alps, which are broken
into so many steeps and precipices, that they fill the mind with
an agreeable kind of horror, and form one of the most irregular
misshapen scenes in the world.”’ Versoy, in the Canton of Berne,
attracted the notice of our traveler as the last asylum of Edmund
Ludlow. “The house he lived in has this inscription over the
door: ae fete

** Omne solum forti patria
quia patris.’?

“ The first part,’’ he adds, “is a piece of verse in Ovid, as the last
is a cant of his own.”’ Notwithstanding this stroke of contempt,
which so fine a classic could scarcely resist, he proceeds to tran-
scribe and translate the Latin epitaph of the old republican, as
well as another placed beside it, to one Andrew Broughton, who
js said to have had * the honor to pronounce the sentence of the’
King of Kings:’’ “I suppose,” he says, “ by his epitaph, it is the
same person that was clerk to the pretended high court of Justice,
which passed sentence on the Royal Martyr.”

The description of Meldingen has some humor, “It is a re-
public of itself, under the protection of the eight ancient Cantons.
There are in it a hundred bourgeois and about a thousand souls.
The government is modeled after the same manner with that of
the Cantons. .... For this reason, though they have very little
business to do, they have all the variety of councils and officers
that are to be met with in the greater states..... They have
three councils, the great council of fourteen, the little council of
ten, and the privy council of three. . . . The several councils meet

84 THE LIFE OF
eee
every Thursday upon affairs of state, such as the reparation of a
trough, the mending of a pavement, or any the like matters of im-
portance. The river that runs through their dominions puts them
to the charge of a very large bridge, that is all made of wood, and
coped over head, like the rest in Switzerland... .. You may be
sure the preserving of the bridge, with the regulation of the dues
arising from it, is the grand affair that cuts out employment for
the several councils of state.”

The very handsome town house of Zurich gives occasion to a
remark characteristic of his fine taste in writing: “It is a pity
they have spoiled the beauty of the walls with abundance of
childish Latin sentences that consist often in a jingle of words. I
have indeed observed in several inscriptions of this country, that
your men of learning here, are extremely delighted in playing
little tricks with words and figures; for your Swiss wits are not
yet got out of the anagram and acrostic.”’

A visit to the Abbey of St. Gall suggests the following Protest-
ant reflections. “I have often wished that some traveler would
take the pains to gather together all the modern inscriptions
which are to be met with in Roman Catholic countries, as Gruter
and others have copied out the ancient heathen monuments. Had
we two or three volumes of this nature, without any of the col-
lector’s own reflections, I am sure there is nothing in the world
could give a truer idea of the Roman Catholic religion, nor expose
more the pride, vanity, and self-interest of convents, the abuse of
indulgences, the folly and impertinence of votaries, and, in short,
the superstition, credulity, and childishness of the Roman Catho-
he religion. One might fill several sheets at St. Gall, as indeed
there are few considerable convents or churches that would: not
afford large contributions.”’

Some remarks on the admirable union and harmony maintained
among the Swiss Cantons notwithstanding their number and their
division in religion, evince the same preference of republican
over monarchical government, for small and poor countries, which
so often breaks forth in his accounts of the Italian states. “A
prince’s court,” he says, “eats too much into the income of a
poor state, and generally introduces a kind of luxury and mag-
nificence, that sets every particular person upon making a higher
figure in his station than is generally consistent with his revenue.”
He highly praises the endeavors used in the Cantons to banish
all appearances of pomp and superfluity; observes that luxury
wounds a republic in its very vitals, and that precautions against
it have become more necessary in some of the governments since

JOSEPH ADDISON. 85
the influx of French refugees; “for though the Protestants in
France affect ordinarily a greater plainness and simplicity of man-
ners than those of the same quality who are of the Roman Ca-
tholic communion, they have, however, too much of their country
gallantry for the genius and constitution of Switzerland.” As
an illustration of the frugality of these states, he observes that
“their holiday clothes go from father to son, and are seldom
worn out till the second or third generation; so that it is common
enough to see a countryman in the doublet and breeches of his
great-grandfather.”’

Many passages in the relation of this Swiss tour refer to the
influence, or authority, exerted by the King of France, in the
cantons, and attest the mingled feelings of apprehension and ab-
horrence with which this ambitious and persecuting monarch was
regarded by our Protestant English traveler. In consequence of
the death of James II., and the proclamation of his son at Paris by
the arrogant command of Louis XIV., war against France had
again been declared by the English court, which had renewed its
engagements with its former continental allies.

On reaching the imperial town of Lindau, Addison found the
inhabitants all in arms, and under great apprehensions from the
Bavarian troops, and “ we were advised,” he says, “ by our mer-
chants by no means to venture ourselves in the Duke of Bava-
ria’s country, so that we had the mortification to lose the sight
of Munich, Augsburgh, and Ratisbon, and were forced to take
our way to Vienna through the Tyrol, where we had very little
to entertain us beside the natural face of the country.’’ By whom
he was accompanied in this part of his travels, nowhere appears;
possibly by a pupil.

A remark on the beauty added to the fine scenery of the
Inn by the colors of the changing foliage, apprises us that it
was already Autumn when he reached Vienna; whence we
may conjecture that he had purposely lingered in Switzerland
till finally assured of the disappointment of his hopes, and the
fall of his political friends, through the Tory predilections of
Queen Anne.

He found some consolation for his disappointments, in the
friendship which he had the opportunity of forming at the [mpe-
rial capital with Mr. Stepney, then the British envoy to that
court. With this gentleman, long the chosen intimate of his
friend Mr. Wortley Montagu, it is curious to observe how nume-
yous were his points of similarity or sympathy. Stepney, like
himself, desirous of turning to worldly advantage a distinguished

86 THE LIFE OF

ptoficiency in classical learning, had composed an Ode on the
marriage of the Princess Anne, which formed a portion of the
customary homage paid by the University of Cambridge on
that auspicious occasion. He had also celebrated in English
verse the accession of James II.; these, added to other effusions of
loyalty, with some attempts in the humorous line; and transla-
tions in verse from the Latin poets,—a favorite exercise with
the writers of the time,—had gained him considerable distinction
as a poet. This character, joined to the claims of a school friend-
ship, entitled him to the zealous patronage of Lord Halifax, by
whose persuasion he enlisted himself, after the revolution in the
Whig party, and became a successful candidate for diplomatic em-
ployments. From the year 1692, he had been engaged in a series
of missions to the different states and princes of Germany, and
was now, for the second time, deputed to the Emperor. The
official character of Stepney afforded him the means of bestowing
on our traveler marks of attention peculiarly welcome in the de-
pressed state of his fortunes ; and the warm expressions of grati-
tude which occur, even in the official correspondence which it
was subsequently the duty of Addison to maintain with him, prove
that his inclination to serve him had not fallen short of his ability.
Their friendship continued without interruption till the early death
of Stepney a few years afterwards.

CHAPTER V.
1702 to 1704.

Addison in adversity. Erroneous representations of this period of his life.
Swift’s lines full of misrepresentation, He quits Vienna. Letter to Stepney
on his Dialogues on Ancient Medals. Account of this work. His travels
in Germany. Letters to Mr. Stepney. To Lord Winchelsea. His charac-
ter, To Mr. Wyche. To Mr. Bathurst. Arrives at the Hague. Meets
Tonson there. His business in Holland. Letter of Addison to him. Let-
ters of the Duke of Somerset to Tonson concerning Addison. Letter of
Addison to the Duke. Ofthe Duke toTonson. Remarks. Letter to Bishop
Hough. To Mr. Wood. To Mr. Wyche. Return of Addison to England.

Tar the period of Addison’s life now under consideration
must have been one of considerable anxiety, if not embarrassment,
is unquestionable. Every circumstance seemed to conspire against

JOSEPH ADDISON. 87
him : disappointed of his promised office abroad, he was return-
ing to meet a defeated party at home; in the meantime his re-
sources had been curtailed by the cessation of his pension, his
Oxford debts still pressed upon his mind, and his fellowship and
whatever supplies could be afforded him by a father certainly far
from affluent, seemed to have formed his whole reliance for pre-
sent support.

The conduct of a man of merit under difficulties is always the
most instructive, as well as interesting part of his history; the
total silence, therefore, of Tickell, respecting his situation and
engagements after quitting Geneva, till he was called upon to
celebrate the battle of Blenheim, must always have been a disap-
pointment to the curious reader. Yet no blame can properly be
said to attach to the editor of his works on this account; he pro-
fessed to give no more than a view of the literary life of Addison;
his personal acquaintance with him was of much later date, and
his own reverence for a patron of such rank in the state as well
as in letters, perhaps, too, the pride of a titled widow, forbade the
exhibition of him under circumstances, which, in the eye of the
world, mightappear humiliating. To these considerations it may
be added, that he is not chargeable with veiling any particulars
morally disgraceful, for none such, as he well knew, had existed ;
and it must have cost him a struggle to deny himself the satisfac-
tion of displaying the high and honorable friendships by which
Addison was still graced and protected when pensionless, destitute
of office, profession or inheritance, and rich in nothing but his
genius and the treasures of his accomplished mind. One effect,
however, of Tickell’s silence, and which he certainly did not anti-
cipate, has been, that of leaving room for a variety of false repre-
sentations, which have passed unexamined from one biographical
compiler to another, till they have become a regular part of what
is universally believed respecting this eminent person. The source
of these must now be carefully laid open.

There appeared in the works of Swift a poem, written as late
as the year 1728, and entitled «A libel on the Reverend Dr. De-
lany, and his Excellency John lord Carteret.’’ ‘This piece was
composed by the dean with the design of deterring his clerical
friend from paying his court to the Lord-lieutenant of Ireland by
literary flatteries, with the hope of obtaining in return the solid
benefits of his patronage. In pursuance of this purpose, he cites
a variety of examples exhibiting the unfeeling disregard to the
worldly interests of men of letters evinced by pretended patrons,
who had cultivated their society from vanity, or merely as the

88 THE LIFE OF
A tanh pS RRO SRL OO LOLS E BALES LSS LOT te TNT
amusement of an idlehour. For the sake of insulting the memory
of Lord Halifax, Congreve is included in the number, who was im
fact a remarkable contrary instance of speedy and substantial
benefits received through the favor of a statesman. Afterwards
occurs the following :
«¢ Thus Addison, by lords caress’d,

Was left in foreign lands distress’d,

Forgot at home, became for hire

A tray’ling tutor to a squire, ‘

But wisely left the Muses? hill,

To business shaped the poet’s quill,

Let all his barren Jaurels fade,

Took up himself the courtier’s trade,

And, grown a minister of state,

Saw poets at his levee wait.”

Swift had assuredly no ill-will to Addison; on the contrary, he
was always very decidedly one of the small number whom the dean
was pleased to except out of his general hatred of a race of which
he was himself, in many respects, a very bad specimen. But
when any point was to be carried, and especially any private or
party malice to be gratified, he was one of the most unscru-
pulous of assertors; this occasion, he perceived, might be im-
proved to the dishonor of Somers and Halifax, who, though dead,
were still chosen objects of his vindictive feelings; and it is really
something extraordinary to consider what a tissue of utter falsehoods
he has deliberately woven into so few lines for the sake of involving
in it those Whig leaders by whom he thought himself to have been
neglected and deceived. That Addison was not ‘forgot at home”’
by the lords who had “ caressed’? him, so long as they retained
the power of serving him in public life, is manifest, both from the
intended mission to Prince Eugene, which has been mentioned,
and from Addison’s own letters. Afterwards, displaced and im-
peached, what succor could they have offered their friend, short
of settling him as a pensioner on their private bounty ?—A. degra-
dation to which we may feel confident that a spirit so delicate, so
well acquainted with true dignity, and conscious of such resources
in itself, would never have submitted. That Addison was tempted
by the want of due encouragement to “quit the Muses’ hill” for
business, is so absolutely contrary to fact, that this his first check
in an intended political career had the immediate effect, as we
shall see, of throwing him back upon literature as his best resource,
Such, indeed, it continued to be to him through all the subsequent
vicissitudes of his career. No English writer of any age, whose
life was not wholly that of a secluded scholar, could with more pro-

JOSEPH ADDISON. R 89
ne en ETS RRR ne nee een Ga
priety have adopted Cicero’s celebrated praise of letters, as the
companions of all hours, all scenes and circumstances, all periods
of life, all varieties of fortune. With poetry his course began;
with poetry and Cato it almost concluded. We have no evidence
that he ever actually undertook the charge of a traveling tutor,
though he had it in his thoughts; for the latter part of his tour,
the letters now produced to the public for the first time, from the
Tickell and the Tonson papers, added to some reprinted in their
proper connection and sequence, will be found to afford under his
own hand, strong contrary presumptions. They show likewise
that Addison, the intimate and equal associate of persons of rank,
merit and influence, modest as he was, knew how to set a due
value on himself, his hopes and his fortunes.

His stay at Vienna was brief. Autumn was already advanced,
as we have seen, when he reached it, and he appears to have
quitted it soon after he addressed to Stepney the following letter.

MR. ADDISON TO MR. STEPNEY.

Sir—That I may be as troublesome to you in prose as in verse,
I take the liberty to send you the beginning of a work that I told
you I had some design of publishing at my Return into England,
I have wrote it since my being at Vienna, in hopes that it might
have y* advantage of your correction. I cant hope that one who
is so well acquainted with y* persons of our present modern princes
shou’d find any pleasure in a discourse on y® faces of such as
made a figure in y® World above a thousand years agoe. You
will see however that I have endeavoured to treat my subject, that
is in itself very bare of Ornaments, as divertingly as I cou’d. I
have proposed to myself such a way of instructing as that in the
dialogues on y* Plurality of Worlds. The very owning of this
design will I believe look like a piece of vanity, tho’ I know Iam
guilty of a much greater in offering what I have wrote to your
perusal. Iam 8S". &.

To M". Stepney Envoy at the Court of Vienna. November 1702.*

It was thus that he introduced to his friend his beautiful « Dia-
logues on the usefulness of ancient medals ;” perhaps the most per-
fect, certainly the most graceful examples in our language of this
form of composition. Dr. Johnson’s assertion,—whose scanty ac-
quaintance with French literature probably did not include even the

el
eee

rs,

* Tickell papers.

90 THE LIFE OF

celebrated and popular work of Fontenelle,—that Dryden’s Dia-
logue on Dramatic poetry was Addison’s model, is thus disproved;
and this information of the real prototype suggests a curious
national contrast. The informing spirit of the dialogues of Fon-
tenelle is that of gallantry ; and the fair pupil whom he addresses
imbibes the principles of the astronomy of Descartes diluted and
dulcified with at least an equal portion of flattery, on the graces of
her person and the charms of her mind; but although the study
of medals could scarcely be regarded as less within the sphere of
female inquiry than worlds and their vortices,—and in fact there
had been ladies in this country of a former and a better age cele-
brated for their numismatic attainments,—the English wit care-
fully exonerates himself from all obligation to compliment the
ladies on the occasion, and admits not even a humble listener of
the feminine gender. A knowledge of the pattern on which he
worked might likewise have shielded the author from a criticism
of Bishop Hurd, who imputes it as a fault to these dialogues that
they deviate from the classical examples in not exhibiting real
characters as the interlocutors. In any case, this appears an ill-
considered objection ; and it is probable that the judgment of the
bishop was warped by his own practice. Whatever dignity or
seeming authority this kind of artifice,—an offensive one at the
best to the true lover of historical and biographical truth,—might
lend to the discussion of questions of philosophy, politics or history,
it would be difficult to point out any advantage to be gained by it
on such a topic as the usefulness of medals, essentially a branch
of erudition; while the difficulties and objections are obvious.
The part of a leading speaker must in all propriety have been
assigned to some one of the very small number of learned persons
who had distinguished themselves by devoting their lives to pro-
found investigations in this dark and difficult science; and with
what modesty could a writer who had only skimmed its surface,
have uttered conjectures or remarks of his own under the sanction
of names such as those of Spanheim or Le Vailliant?

It appears that the study of medals had been a favorite object
of pursuit with Addison in Italy, and especially at Rome, where
he had availed himself of the technical instructions of a professor
of this branch of antiquities, besides embracing the opportunity of
inspecting the most celebrated collections. According to his gene-
ral plan in the study of antiquity, he applied his knowledge of
these objects to the illustration of passages in the Latin poets, by
which, in return, he frequently explained the signification of

JOSEPH ADDISON. 91

ERE ee, Ee
medals. Several examples of this application of his reading occur
in his Travels. J

The two first of these dialogues are much more thickly inter-
spersed than even his Travels with quotations from ancient writers,
brought to explain the objects, customs, and events represented
by the charges of the medals; and the wide range of subjects,
with the great number and variety of authors quoted, highly hon-
orable as they are to the learned diligence of the author, are also
quite effectual in relieving whatever of dryness might have been
found in the topic itself. The playful turns of fancy, and the
strokes of character and humor which give distinctness and anima-
tion to the speakers, have as much of the peculiar zest of his
genius as his best Spectators. Besides the two dialogues which
strictly answer to the general title, there is a third called « A paral-
lel between ancient and modern medals,’”’ which is laudable for
the moderation and absence of national prepossession with which
it discusses the merits and defects of those struck by order of Louis
XIV., to record the glories of his reign. Itis frankly avowed that,
in most points of excellence, these come nearer to the ancients
than any other modern ones, and it is added, that to the French
we are also * indebted for the best lights that have been given to
the whole science in general.”

For what reason the author of these elegant and highly-finished
pieces should have left them to make their first appearance in the
posthumous edition of his works, it is not easy to divine. Pos-
sibly he might apprehend that he had already introduced in his
Travels as much of classical matter as the English public, im-
mersed in party contests, would find leisure or inclination to attend
to; possibly he might not fully have satisfied the excessive deli-
cacy of his own taste in the execution ; probably he might soon
become distrustful of the soundness of some of his conjectural
interpretations of enigmatical inscriptions and half-effaced or ill-
formed figures.

What objects of a more peculiar and personal nature than the
general benefits of travel Addison might have had at this time in his
view, we do not learn; but we may conclude that he had such,
since it was both by a very leisurely and a very circuitous jour-
ney, including both the free town of Hamburgh, where his stay
was long, and almost all the Protestant courts of Germany, that
he proceeded towards Holland, which country he did not reach
till the spring of 1703. His correspondence supplies scanty, yet
amusing notices of his progress, and of the gay, and it must be
owned, somewhat convivial associates with whom he traveled or

92 THE LIFE OF

joined company on the different stages of his progress. A frag-
ment of a second letter to Mr. Stepney affords some notices of his
winter journey to Dresden.

‘
* 4

MR. ADDISON TO MR. STEPNEY.

S'—If I trouble you with another letter so soon after my last
you must impute it to y* frequency of y° favors I receive from you.
It is to them we owe all y® pleasures we find at Dresden as well
as what we met with at Vienna. Since our leaving Prague we
have seen nothing but a great varietie of Winter pieces, so that
all y° account I can give you of y* Country is, that it abounds
very much in Snow. If it has any other beauties in it this is not
a time of year to look for ’em when almost ev’rything we see is of
y° same colour, and scarce anything we meet with except our sheets
and napkins that is not white. &c. &c.

Jan. 34 1703.

Tt is difficult to conceive what congeniality of tastes can have
engaged him in a correspondence with Charles third, earl of
Winchelsea, unless we may impute some malice or misinforma-
tion to Macky, who, after mentioning that his lordship was brought
into the government by the Earl of Nottingham, and held some
appointments at the beginning of the queen’s reign, thus charac-
terizes him: * He hath neither genius nor gusto for business ;
loves hunting and a bottle; was an opposer to his power of the
measures of King William’s reign ; and is zealous for the monar-
chy and church in the highest degree. He loves jests and puns,

and that sort of low wit—not thirty years old.’””, He was probably
of Oxford.

MR. ADDISON TO THE EARL OF WINCHELSEA.

My Lord—I can no longer deny myself y® honour of troubling
your L'ship with a Letter, tho Hambourg has yet furnisht me
with very few materials for it. The great Business of the place
is Commerce and Drinking: as their chief Commoditie, at least
that which I am best acquainted with, is Rhenish Wine. This
they have in such prodigious Quantities that there is yet no sen-
sible diminution of it tho M*. Perrot and myself have bin among
em above a week. The principal Curiositie of y° town, and
what is more visited than any other I have met with in my
Travails, is a great Cellar fill’d with this kind of Liquor. It

JOSEPH ADDISON. 93

holds more hogsheads than others can bottles, and I believe is
capable of receiving into it a whole Vintage of y’ Rhine. By
this cellar stands y° little English Chappel, w* your L'ship may
well suppose is not all-together soe much frequented by our
Countrymen as y* other. I must however do ’em y* justice, as
they are all of ’em Loyal Sons of y* Church of England, to as-
_ sure your L'ship that her Majestie can have no subjects in any
part of her Dominions that pray more heartily for her health or
drink to it oft’ner. We are this evening to take a bottle with
Mr. Wyche and Stratford. ‘To draw us in they tell us it shall
be to my L* Winchelsea’s Health. I dare not lett you know my
L*, how often we have already made this an excuse for a meeting,
least at y* same time that I w’ show our zeal for your L'ship I
shoud give you a very small opinion of our sobriety: But as all
here are extremely disappointed in not having y® Honour of your
Company at Hambourg, they think this is y° only way they have
left of showing their high Esteem for your L'ship. I hoped my
Stay at Hambourg would have given me occasion to have written
a much longer Letter, but as I can find no better a subject to en-
tertain your L*ship with I am sensible I have already made it too
long. [am my Lord with all possible respect Your L'ship’s &c.

To y® right Honorable y* Earle of Winchelsea
Envoy Extraordinary to Hanover. March 1703.

At Hamburgh, which seems to have afforded no other matter
for commemoration in his correspondence than the excellence of
the wine and the quantities in which it was swallowed, though
there must doubtless have been other reasons, probably some po-
litical commission, for his making so long a sojourn there,—Addi-
son formed or renewed acquaintance with a diplomatist of some
note,and apparently an accomplished person—Mr. Wyche, whom
he thus addressed, after he had reached Holland:

MR. ADDISON TO MR. WYCHE.

Dear Sir—My hand at present begins to grow steady enough
for a Letter, so that the properest use I can put it to is to thank y°®
honest Gentleman that set it a shaking. I have had this morning
a desperate design in my head to attack you in Verse, which |
should certainly have done coud I have found out a Rhime to
Rummer. But tho’ you have escaped for y°® present you are not
‘yet out of danger, if I can a little recover my talent at Crambo.
I am sure in whatever way | write to you it will be impossible for

94 THE LIFE OF

me to express y® deep sense I have of y* many favours you have
lately shown me. I shall only tell you that Hambourg has bin
the pleasantest stage [ have met with in my Travails. If any of
my friends wonder at me for living so long in that place, I dare
say it will be thought a very good excuse when I tell ’em Mr.
Wyche was there. As your Company made our stay at Ham-
bourg agreeable, your wine has given us. all y° satisfaction that
we have found in our journey through Westphalia. If drinking
your Health will do you any good, you may expect to be as long-
lived as Methuselah, or to use a more familiar Instance, as y*
oldest Hoc in y* Cellar. I hope y* two pair of Legs that we left
a swelling behind us are by this time come to their shapes again.
T cant forbear troubling you with my hearty respects to y° Owners
of ’em and desiring you to believe me always Dear Sir Your’s &c.
To Mr. Wyche her Majestie’s Resident at Hambourg, May, 1703.

Another letter, without date of time or place, but certainly
written in Holland, is addressed to Mr. Bathurst, afterwards Baron
Bathurst, being one of the twelve peers created together by Queen
Anne in 1711. He was at this time very young, and had doubt-
less been introduced to Addison at Oxford, where he had been
brought up at Trinity College under the celebrated Dean Bathurst,
his uncle. His politics were strongly Tory through life. The
style of the letter is adapted toa gay and gallant youth, but one
who was at least supposed to be in training for a statesman.

MR. ADDISON TO ALLEYN BATHURST ESQ.

Dear sir,—This letter will find you wholly taken up with y®
Ladys and States-General, and dividing your time between Ombre
and Politics. I question not but the Odyh’s and y* Opdams will
follow y* Example of y* Hohenzollerns; for 1 cant believe any
heart impregnable to one that has already carry’d his conquests
farther than ever Cesar did, and make captives among a people
that would not be slaves to y° Roman Empire. I dont suppose
you are yet willing to change your Assemblys for Anatomy
Schools, and to quit your beauties of y* Hague for y° Skeletons
of Leyden. When you have a mind to take a walk among dead
men’s bones, honour me with a Line and I will not fail to meet
you. Your company will I am sure make me think ev’n such a

place Agreeable. 1 drank your health today with S" Richard

JOSEPH ADDISON. 95

Shirly, and desire you to believe nobody wishes it more heartily
than Dear S" &ec.
To Alleyn Bathurst Esqe at the Hague.*

On the arrival of Addison in Holland, we find him associating
on familiar terms with the most distinguished of the English gene-
_ ral officers whom he found there, occupied in concerting with the
Dutch commanders and others of the allies the business of the
‘campaign; but himself unemployed, and apparently seeking for
some engagement. At Rotterdam he unexpectedly encountered
his old acquaintance Jacob Tonson, the bookseller, who had issued
proposals for publishing by subscription a splendid edition of
Cesar’s Commentaries, and in furtherance, as it appears, of this
object, had passed over into Holland in May, 1703.

As secretary of the Kitcat club, Tonson was familiarly ac-
quainted with all the leaders of the Whig party, who were its
members; he even appears to have been himself regarded as
somewhat of a political character, at least if we may regard as
more than jest a passage in a letter addressed to him at this time
by Congreve: “Do you know, the Tories (even the wisest of
them) have been very grave upon your going to Holland. They
often say, with a nod, that Cawsar’s Commentaries might have
been carried through without a voyage to Holland. There were
meanings in that subscription; and that list of names may serve
for further engagements than paying three guineas a piece for a
book.”’

A short note written by Addison to Tonson proves the zeal
with which he entered into the projects of the bookseller, as well
as the intimate terms on which he associated with persons of note
on the Whig side.

MR. ADDISON TO MR. TONSON.

“T have shown your letter to Mr. Cunningham. He will speak
to the bookseller about the Tableau des Muses. ... I should have
answered your letter sooner, had I not been two days at Rotterdam,
whence I returned yesterday with Colonel Stanhope, whom |
found unexpectedly at Pennington’s. If I can possibly, I will
come and see you at Amsterdam to-morrow for a day. As |
dined with my lord Cutts other day I talked of your Cwsar, and

a a ann tacieaine oo

ee

* Tickell papers.

96 THE LIFE OF

ee i ee
let him know the two German generals had subscribed. He
asked me who had the taking of the subscriptions, and told me he
believed he could assist you, if they were not full,’ &c.

Mr. D. Pultney writes from Utrecht to Tonson at Amsterdam,
«Give my service to Mr. Addison, and the inclosed Terre filius’s
speech, which may perhaps afford him half an hour’s amusement
when your business calls you from him;’’ from which it should
appear that these parties were then domesticated together. They
had indeed an affair of some consequence to discuss.

Tonson, we find, had been commissioned by no less a personage
than that Duke of Somerset commorfly designated as the Proud,
to make inquiry for a proper person to undertake the office of
traveling tutor to his son, Algernon, Earl of Hertford, then in his
nineteenth year. He had the good judgment to recommend Ad-
dison, to whom he opened the business by letter before he em-
barked for Holland. The very remarkable particulars of the
subsequent negotiation explain themselves in the original corre-
spondence.

THE DUKE OF SOMERSET TO MR. TONSON,.

Mr. Manwaring told me you had now received a letter from
Mr. Addison, wherein he seems to embrace the proposal, but
desires to know the particulars; soif you please to come to me
to-morrow morning, about nine or ten o’clock, we will more fully
discourse the whole matter together, that you may be able at your
arrival in Holland to settle all things with him. I could wish he
would come over by the return of this convoy. But more of this
when we meet, in the meantime believe me

Your very humble servant

SoMERSET.
For M', Jacob Tonson at Gray’s inn.

THE DUKE OF SOMERSET TO MR. TONSON.

London, June the 4‘, 1703.

I received yours of the 21 of May, yesterday, and am very
glad, after so long a time, you are at last safely arrived with the
Duke of Grafton at the Hague. As to what you write of Mr.
Addison, I shall be very glad to see him here in England, that
we may more fully discourse together of that matter, but at the
same time I should have been much better satisfied, had he made
his own proposals, that he then would have been on more certain

JOSEPH ADDISON. 97
terms of what he was to depend on, especially since he did not
intend to leave Holland so soon on any other account; therefore I
think I ought to enter into that affair more freely and more plainly,
and tell you what I propose, and what I hope he will comply with,
viz., I desire he may be more on the account of a companion in
my son’s travels than as a governor, and as such I shall account
him: my meaning is that neither lodging, traveling or diet shall
cost him sixpence, and over and above that, my son shall present
him at the year’s end with a hundred guineas, as long as he is
pleased to continue in that service to my son, by taking great care
of him, by his personal attendance and advice, in what he finds
necessary during his time of traveling. My intention is at present
to send him over before August next to the Hague, there to remain
for one year, from thence to go to all the courts of Germany, and
to stay some time at the court of Hanover, as we shall then agree.
The only reason for his stay at the Hague is, to perform all his
exercises, and when he is perfect in that, then*to go next wherever
Mr. Addison shall advise, to whom I shall entirely depend on, in
all that he thinks may be most fit for his education. When we
are agreed on what terms may be most agreeable to him, I dare
say he shall find all things as he can desire. This I thought fit
for saving of time to enter into now, for many reasons, that we
may the sooner and the better know each others’ thoughts, being
fully resolved to send him over by the end of the next month: so
I must desire him to be plain with me, as he will find by this that
I am with him, because it will be a very great lett to me not to
know his mind sooner than he proposes to come over. I need
not tell you the reason, it being so plain for you to guess, and the
main of all, which is the conditions, as I have mentioned, may be
as well treated on by letter as if he was here. So I do desire his
speedy answer, for to tell you plainly, I am solicited every day
on this subject, many being offered to me, and I cannot tell them
that 1am engaged positively, because Mr. Addison is my desire
and inclination by the character I have heard of him, &c.

MR. ADDISON TO THE DUKE OF SOMERSET.

May it please your Grace—By a letter that Mr. Tonson has
shown me [ find that I am very much obliged to your Grace for
y° kind opinion that you are pleas’d to entertain of me. I
shou’d be extreamly glad of an opportunity of deserving it, and
am therefore very ready to close with y° proposal that is there
made me of accompanying my L" Marquess of Hartford in his

7

98 ‘THE LIFE OF

Travails and doing his L'ship all y* services that I am capable
of. I have lately receiv’d one or two advantageous offers of y*
same nature, but as I should be very ambitious of executing any
of your Grace’s commands, so I cant think of taking y° like em-
ploy from any other hands. As for y® recompense that is pro-
posed to me, [ must take the liberty to assure your Grace that I
should not see my account in it, but in y® hopes that I have to
recommend myself to your Grace’s favor and approbation. I am
glad your Grace has intimated that you would oblige me to attend
my L‘ only from year to year, for ina twelve month it may be
easily seen whether I can be of any advantage to his L'ship. I
am sure if my utmost endeavours can do anything, I shant fail to
answer your Grace’s expectations. About a fortnight hence I
hope to have y® Honour of waiting on your Grace unless I receive
any Commands to y* contrary. lam &c.

To his Grace the Duke of Somerset.

THE DUKE OF SOMERSET TO MR. TONSON.

June 22°41: 1703

Your letter of the 16™ with one from Mr. Addison came safe
tome. You say he will give me an account of his readiness of
complying with my proposal. I will set down his own words,
which are thus. ‘ As for the recompense that is proposed to me,
I must confess I can by no means see my account in it” &c. All
the other parts of his letter are compliments to me, which he
thought he was bound in good breeding to write, and as such I
have taken them, and no otherwise; and now I leave you to
judge how ready he is to comply with my proposal. Therefore I
have wrote by this first post to prevent his coming to England on
my account, and have told him plainly that I must look for ano-
ther, which I cannot be long a-finding. Iam very sorry that I
have given you so much trouble in it, but I know you are good,
and will forgive it in one that is so much your humble servant.
Our club is dissolved till you revive it again, which we are im-
patient of.

SomMERSET.

MR. ADDISON TO THE DUKE OF SOMERSET.

May it please your Grace,—Since my return from a Journey
that I was obliged to make into North Holland I have received y®
honour of your Grace’s letter, w" has hinder’d my immediate

JOSEPH ADDISON. 99

going for England. I am sorry to find that I have not made use
of such expressions as were proper to represent y° the sense I
have of the honour your Grace design’d me, and shou’d be ex-
tremely glad of any occasion that may happen ‘in which I might
show how proud I shou’d be of obeying your Commands, and
most particularly if during my stay here I cou’d be any-ways ser-
viceable to my L* Hartford. Iam &c.
To the Duke of Somerset July. 1703.*

——

On perusing these letters, so harsh and arrogant on the part of
the duke, who seems to regard it as insolence in the intended tu-
tor of his son not to accept with humility and gratitude such terms
as he was pleased to offer, we are prompted to exclaim with the
poet

“« How low, how little are the proud,

How indigent the great!
For the paltry consideration of a few hundreds in salary or an-
nuity, we see the eldest son of the second English Duke, by the
heiress of the great family of Percy, losing the benefit, the privi-
lege, and with posterity the honor, of being attended on his travels
by him who, of all his cotemporaries, united in the highest per-
fection classical learning, personal acquaintance with every scene
in Italy renowned in history or in song, taste and skill in the use
of his own language and in all the departments of elegant litera-
ture, with the manners of a gentleman and morals free from all
reproach.

By this niggardliness, however, strangely inconsistent in a
nobleman lavish to profusion in every expense of ostentation,
Lord Hertford was the only loser. Addison must often have con-
gratulated himself in the sequel on that exertion of proper spirit
by which he had escaped from wasting in an attendance little
better than servile, three precious years, which he found means
of employing so much more to his own honor and satisfaction
and the advantage of the public. “At present there was little in
his circumstances or prospects to inspire cheerfulness; andthe
exquisite delicacy with which he thus uttered his feelings to his
venerable friend Bishop Hough, inspires at once sympathy and re-

spect.

eee

* Addison’s part of this correspondence is from the Tickell Papers; that of
the Duke of Somerset, with all former extracts of letters to Mr. Tonson, from
Tonson Papers, obligingly communicated by Mr. Baker for the purposes of this

work.

100 THE LIFE OF

$$$ —<—$—<— eee
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i

MR. ADDISON TO BISHOP HOUGH.

Amsterdam 24 Aug. NS.

My Lord—I have a long time denied myself the honor of writing
to your Lordship, because I would not trouble you with any of my
private disappointments, and at the same time did not think it
proper to give you a detail of a voyage that I hope to present your
Lordship with a general relation of, at my return toEngland. To
finish the misfortunes I have met with during my travels, I have,
since my coming into Holland, received the news of my Father’s
death, which is indeed the most melancholy news that I ever yet
received. What males it the more so is, that I am informed he
was so unhappy as to do some things, a little before he died,
which were not agreeable to your Lordship. I have seen too
many instances of your Lordship’s great humanity to doubt that
you will forgive anything which might seem disobliging m one
that had his spirits very much broken by age, sickness and afflic-
tion. But, at the same time, I hope that the information I have
received on this subject is not well grounded, because in a letter,
not long before his death, he commanded me always to preserve
a just sense of duty and gratitude for the Bishop of Lichfield, who
had been so great a benefactor to his family in general and myself
in particular. ‘This advice, though it was not necessary, may
show, however, the due respect he had for your Lordship ; as it
was given at a time when men seldom disguise their sentiments.
I must desire your Lordship to pardon the trouble of this letter,
which I should never have taken the liberty to have written, had
it not been to vindicate one of the best of Fathers, and that to your
Lordship, whom, of all the world, 1 would not have possessed with
an ill opinion of one I am so nearly related to. If I can serve
your Lordship in this country I should be proud to receive any of
your commands at Mr. Moor’s in Amsterdam. I am my Lord
Your Lordships most dutiful and most obedient Servant

J. Appison.*

Two letters, written in a more lively strain, and dated in the
following month, complete his correspondence while on his travels.
The first is addressed to Mr. Wood, perhaps * the rake Wood,”

whose conversion to sobriety he had reported long before to Mr.
Wortley Montagu.

a

* Life of Dr. Hough by J. Wilmot, Esq. 1812.

JOSEPH awn 5 101

MR. ADDISON TO MR. WOOD.

Dear S*.—I have lately had y* honour to meet my L‘ Effingham
at Amsterdam, where we have drank Mr. Wood’s health a hun-
dred times in excellent Champaign. His L'ship show’d me a
very pleasant letter of your’s that wou’d discourage me from send-
ing so bad a one as this is like to be, but that I hope you will con-
sider it only as a case to my Lord’s and so pardon it for what it
encloses. Iam sorry to hear you have entertain’d a thought of
taking a journey into Italy, tho I question not but the Alpes will
be as effectual a stop to you as it has bin to y* Electour of Bavaria.
Think but on Mount Cenis, and, as you have not y°® brains of a
Kite, I am sure it will deter you from so rash an undertaking. I
protest to you I am almost giddy at y* very apprehension of y*
many Rocks and precipices that we met with in that part of y°
world, and in this single particular I must boast to have as good a
head as yourself. Shoud youonce cross y* Alpes, (which by y*® way

would be a March as much to be admir’d as that of Hannibal) y*
natural antipathy you have to seas & mountains woud make me
despair of ever seeing you in England: besides y* danger there may
be of your turning Virtuoso. So that you see in y* advice I give
you, like all other Counsellours, J am not without an Eye to my
own private Interest. I han’t yet seen your Nephew in this
country, but I hear he has signalis’d himself in y* double capacity
of a man of arms and of Letters. As for y° first you have heard
doubtless that he is a Captain, and as an instance of y*® second
take y° following story. There happen’d about a twelve-month
ago a dispute between him and S*" Richard Temple on y° word
Believe: S" R. affirmed like a Hardy Knight, that the last sylla-
ble shoud be spelt with a double e, your kinsman was for ie.
The strongest argument on either side was a Wager of a Hundred
pound. ‘I'he most able Orthographers in Holland were consulted
on y° difficulty who all gave sentence against y® Chevalier. From
Holland he appeal’d to y® best Critics in England, that confirmed
y°® Verdict giv’n on this side y* water. In short Believe main-
tained an I in it in spight of all attacks made upon it, and your
Nephew won a hundred pound in its defence.

I have lately receiv’d my Book of Travails from Mr. Fisher.
It has taken a larger tour than its Author since it went out of your
hands, and made a greater Voyage than that which it describes.
But after having past thro’ Switzerland, Germany, Holland, and

A-~Wads

Lincoln Christian College

102 THE LIFE OF

RAR RRR RRR RRA ARE EESEEaEaEaEh00D DDS

made a Trip into England it is at last sent me to y° Hague. I
thank you heartily for y* trouble it has giv’n you and am &c,
To M' Wood at Geneva, 7°". 1703,

MR. ADDISON TO MR. WYCHE.

Dear Sir—Mr. Downing letting me know that he intended to
pass speedily through Hambourg, I could not forbear telling him
how much [ envied him y® good company he was like to meet
there. This naturally brought to mind the many obligations I
have to Mr. Wyche, w" I would have exprest to you before now in
another way, had not my thoughts bin taken up since my coming
into this country with more disagreeable subjects. At my first
arrival I received the melancholy news of my Father’s Death, and
ever since have bin engaged in so much noise and company that
it was impossible for me to think of Rhiming in it, unless I had
bin possest with such a Muse as Dr. Blackmore’s that cou’d make
a couple of Heroic poems ina Hackney-Coach and a Coffy-house.
I have bin for some time at Amsterdam, where I have had great
opportunities of informing myself in y® price of nutmegs and pep-
per, for since y® coming in of y* East India fleet our Conversation
here runs altogether on Spice.

I nunc et versus tecum meditare canoros !
Lam &c.
To Mt. Wyche her Majestie’s
resident at Hambourg 7*, 1703.

Addison’s return to England must have taken place shortly after
the date of this letter. ‘There was nothing now to detain him in
Holland, and the state of his private affairs would render it in-
cumbent upon him to lose no time in transporting himself to that
busy scene in which he hoped to find some part speedily assigned
him not unworthy of his character and abilities.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 103

ee Nee

CHAPTER VI.
1704 to 1706.

Addison chosen of the Kitcat Club. His lines to the Countess of Manchester.
Still unemployed. Better prospects of the Whigs. War with France. Bat-
tle of Blenheim. Halifax now restored to power, names Addison to Godol-
phin to celebrate the victory. Rewarded by being Commissioner of Appeals.
Poem of the campaign. Le Clere reviews it. Travels in Italy published.
Dedication to Lord Somers, Reception of the work. Le Clere’s favorable
review. Addison presents a copy to Swift. Rise and progress of their friend-
ship. Swift’s testimony to Addison’s social powers. Lady M. Wortley Mon-
tagu’s. Steele’s. Pope’s. Young’s. Addison Under Secretary of State to
Sir C. Hedges. To Lord Sunderland. Attends Lord Halifax to Hanover.
Particulars of his journey and return. Official letters to Stepney.

Axmost immediately on his return from the continent, Addison
had the honour of being elected a member of the celebrated Kit-
cat Club: that distinguished assemblage in which the great nobil-
ity and landed gentry composing the strength of the Whig party,
mingled with the more celebrated of the wits and men of letters
who supported the same principles with their pens.

What might be the feelings of his grace the Duke of Somerset
on first meeting in such a society him whose services he had
thought proper to estimate at so mean a rate, we do not find; pos-
sibly their poignancy might be augmented on learning the rank
of that beauty to whom the rejected tutor did not hesitate to offer
the homage of naming her his toast.

According to the rules of the club, each member, on admission,
was to confer this distinction on some lady of his choice, whose
name was then entered on the minutes of the society, and engraven
on a drinking glass, with some lines of verse in her honor: The
Countess of Manchester, daughter of Robert Greville Lord Brook,
was selected by Addison on this occasion; and the circumstance
of her having accompanied her lord on his embassy to the court
of Versailles,—the origin, probably, of his acquaintance with her,
—suggested the topic of the lines in which she was thus compli-
mented:

‘¢ While haughty Gallia’s dames, that spread
O’er their pale cheeks an artful red,
Beheld this beauteous stranger there,

In native charms divinely fair,
Confusion in their looks they show’d,
And with unborrow’d blushes glow’d.”

104 THE LIFE OF

Amid all these social distinctions, however, no substantial im-
provement had yet taken place in the condition of Addison.
Without a profession, and unprovided as yet of any public ap-
pointment, he still found himself, in his thirty-third year, depend-
ent on a diligent pen for the means of a scanty and precarious
subsistence. The prospects of his party, however, and conse-
quently his own, were now so evidently brightening, that what-
ever anxieties might press upon him it was by no means a time to
throw up the game of ambition in despair.

In the first months of the reign of Anne, the discomfiture of
the Whigs had been complete. Hastening without reflection to
the full gratification of her Tory predilections, the queen had
given her political confidence chiefly to her uncle the Earl of
Rochester ; and the management of ecclesiastical affairs, together
with the direction of her own conscience, to Sharp, Archbishop of
York, a leader of the high-church party. But the essential con-
trariety between the principles of Anne and her position; a very
real, though an obscure and seldom mentioned source of the un-
ceasing struggles of contending factions which raged around her
to her dying hour,—had now begun to make itself felt. The war
which she had declared against Louis XIV., on his’ proclaiming
the Pretender King of England, could by possibility appear, even
to her dim intellect, in no other light than that of a contest for her
own crown and the Protestant succession, against the claims of her
brother and the principle of right divine; and the obvious infer-
ence could scarcely escape her, that in such a quarrel, the cham-
pions of revolution principles were the only supporters on whom
she could place a secure reliance. Nor was there wanting one
about her by whom suggestions of this nature would be zealously
and effectually enforced. It is now matter of history, that the
wife of Marlborough had already begun to exert in favor of Whig
ascendency the absolute sway which she at this time held over
the mind of her mistress, as well as her powerful interest with her
husband and his ally Godolphin.

On the rupture with Louis, it had been one of the first steps of
Anne to dispatch Marlborough, withthe character of plenipotentiary,
to assure the States-General of her adherence to thealliances formed
with them by the late king for resisting the power of France; and
at the same time she had declared him Captain general. From
this period the authority of this great commander in the council
had greatly over-balanced that of the Earl of Rochester; while a
jealousy of him on the part of the Tories, had manifested itself in
slights which he was much disposed to revenge by an open de-

JOSEPH ADDISON. 105

Aw

sertion of their party. In the meantime his personal consequence
was receiving continual accessions; after his first campaign he
was created a duke; in his third, the great day of Blenheim ele-
vated him to the summit of glory and of favor. It was out of
this brillant event, which occurred on August 2, 1704, that Addi-
son’s zealous patron, the Earl of Halifax, extracted an occasion of
doing him an essential service. :

In how unpropitious a manner the new reign had opened to
this nobleman has been already intimated. The queen, almost
immediately on her accession, had struck out his name from the
list of privy councilors, avowedly on account of his Whig prin-
ciples. Shortly after, his enemies in the House of Commons had
advanced several charges against him of malversation and cor-
ruption in his office of auditor of the exchequer, and petitioned
her majesty to proceed against him at common law ; an impeach-
ment which had been aimed at him on a former occasion having
failed of its object. The peers, partly from favor to his political
principles and hostility to those of the majority in the House of
Commons, partly, it may be suspected, from fellow-feeling, for
never was there a time in which infidelity to public trusts was
more gross and prevalent,—interfered for his protection by ad-
vancing a pretension concerning jurisdiction which seemed to
have been ill-founded. This step was met by.the Commons with
vehement demonstrations of resentment, which in turn further
exasperated the indignation of the peers, and the quarrel rose to
so formidable a height, that the queen had recourse to sudden dis-
solution to put a stop to it. In effect, however, the House of Lords
and the Whig party carried their point of protecting their cham-
pion, and the immediate result was, to augment very considerably
the importance of Lord Halifax, and thus to pave the way for his
return to power.*

Such was his position when the news arrived of the battle of
Blenheim. On this occasion Lord Treasurer Godolphin, little re-
marked in general for the love or encouragement of letters, his
own leisure being engrossed by the pursuits of Newmarket,—
meeting Lord Halifax, exclaimed, in the fullness of his joy, that
such a victory ought never to be forgotten, and added that he
had little doubt so distinguished a patron of literature as his lord-
ship must be acquainted with some one whose pen would be

* Mr. Macaulay says, that Miss Aikin has confounded ‘¢ the dispute which
arose in 1703, between the two Houses, about Lord Halifax, with the dispute
about the Aylesbury men, which was terminated by the dissolution of 1705,??

106 THE LIFE OF
capable of doing it justice. Halifax answered with an implied
reproach to Godolphin for his imperfect adoption of the Whigs,
and reluctance to bestow any favors on them,—that he did indeed
know a person eminently qualified for such an office, but that he
would not desire him to write on the subject. An explanation
being asked, he warmly added, that while too many fools and
blockheads were maintained in their pride and luxury at the
public expense, such men as were really an honor to their age
and country, were shamefully suffered to languish in obscurity.
That for his own share, he would never desire any gentleman of
parts and learning to employ his time in celebrating a ministry.
who had neither the justice nor generosity to make it worth his
while.

The lord-treasurer calmly replied, that he would seriously
consider what his lordship had said, and endeavor to give no
occasion for such reproaches in future; and that on the present
occasion, he took upon himself to promise that any gentleman
whom his lordship would name to him as capable of celebrating
the late action, should not repent exerting his genius on the
subject. Lord Halifax, thus encouraged, named Mr. Addison,
but insisted that the lord-treasurer should himself send to him.
This was promised, and the next morning Mr. Addison, * who
was at that time but indifferently lodged,”’* was surprised by a
visit from Mr. Boyle, Chancellor of the Exchequer, sent by Lord
Godolphin, who, after opening his business, acquainted him that
his lordship, to encourage him to enter upon his subject, had al-
ready made him one of the Commissioners of Appeal in the Ex-
cise, but entreated him to look upon that post as an earnest only
of something more considerable. In short, the chancellor said so
many obliging things, and in so graceful a manner, as gave Mr.
Addison the utmost encouragement to begin that poem which he
afterwards published and entitled the Campaign.t

PILL

ae

* Pope, when taking his usual walk with Harte in the Haymarket, desired
Harte to enter a little shop, when going up three pair of stairs into a small
room, Pope said, “In this garret Addison wrote his Campaign.*? DvIsraeli’s
Curiosities of Literature, p. 246, 2d series, :

+ The account in the text is taken from the narrative given by Budgell, in
his “ Life of Lord Orrery,”? who was the identical Mr. Boyle* by whom the
request of Lord Godolphin was conveyed: That of Tickell, which though
different, is not quite incompatible with it, is as follows. ‘He (Addison)
remained some time after his return to England without any public em-

* Mr. Boyle was not afterwards “ Lord Orrery,” but “Lord Carleton,” according to Mr.
Macaulay. ‘

JOSEPH ADDISON. 107

eee

The immediate success of this work was brilliant and flattering
in the highest degree. It was complimented as a poem equal to
the action which it celebrates, and raised the writer at once, in
the general estimation, to the level of the greatest English poets.
From an estimate like this, which naturally partook of the enthu-
siasm inspired by so brilliant and important a victory, a sober

_ judgment will doubtless find something to abate, but the reader
must indeed be dull who could even now peruse it without re-
cognizing in it the genuine offspring of one of the most accom-
plished minds. A commanded poem,—the Campaign has ex-
perienced the constant fate of performances of its own class,
works of skill, of talent and of elegance which, confounded often
at their first appearance with the diviner inspirations of the
Muse, fall afterwards not only into neglect which might perhaps
be excusable, but into contempt which is certainly unjust. Of
this poem it may be said with confidence that it set an example
of good sense and good taste before undreamed of in similar pro-
ductions. There is no exaggeration, no bombast, no extravagance
of flattery, no insipid parade of classical allusions and Homeric
machinery. Truth is the presiding power, and if we might con-
strue strictly the maxim of Boileau, “Rien n’est beau que le vrai,
le vrai seul est aimable,’’ we might hold it to be not merely ex-
cellent, but in the only style of real excellence. The poem is,
however, far from faultless, for even if it could with truth be said,
that the plan and conduct of the piece were free from objection,
it must be admitted, that in frequent examples of feebleness and
tautology* it betrays at least a hasty and careless execution, if not
some barrenness of fancy. But these blemishes are well redeemed
by passages of indisputable and varied merit. The celebrated
simile of the angel, though defective as a comparison, from too
great resemblance to the object compared, may justly claim the
character of grandeur, if not of absolute sublimity.

‘¢ >Twas then great Marlborough’s mighty soul was prov’d,
That in the shock of charging hosts unmovy’d,

I ~~

ee

ployment, which he did not obtain till the year 1704, when the Duke of
Marlborough arrived at the highest pitch of glory, by delivering all Europe
from slavery, and furnished Mr. Addison with a subject worthy of that genius
which appears in his poem called the Campaign. The Lord Treasurer Godol-
phin, who was a fine judge of poetry, hada sight of this work when it was
only carried on as far as the applauded simile of the angel ; and approved the
poem by bestowing on the author, a few days after, the place of commissioner
of appeals, vacant by the removal of the famous Mr. Locke to the council of

trade.” .
* Pope has taken good care, in Scriblerus, to point the finger of derision at

every tautological line in the Campaign.

108 THE LIFE OF

PRR eee

eee

Amidst confusion, horror and despair,
Examin’d all the dreadful scenes of war;

In peaceful thought the field of death survey’d,
To fainting squadrons sent the timely aid,
Inspir’d, repuls’d battalions to engage,

And taught the doubtful battle where to rage.
So when an angel by divine command

With rising tempests shakes a guilty land,
Such as of late o’er pale Britannia past,

Calm and serene he drives the furious blast ;
And pleas’d th? Almighty’s orders to perform,
Rides in the whirlwind and directs the storm.’?

The last line, it may be pointed out, is one which has in a man-
ner become a part of common speech from frequency of quotation.

A passage of great merit, though much less celebrity, is one
which states the case against the King of France.

‘¢ The fatal day its mighty course began,
That the griev’d world had long desir’d in vain:
States that their new captivity bemoan?d,
Armies of martyrs that in exile groan’d,
Sighs from the depths of gloomy dungeons heard
And prayers in bitterness of soul prefer’d,
Europe’s loud cries, that Providence assail’d,
And Anna’s ardent vows at length prevail’d;
The day was come when heay’n design?’d to show
His care and conduct of the world below.”

There is true pathos and much descriptive vigor in the follow-
ing lines:

‘* Long did he strive th? obdurate foe to gain
By proffer’d grace, but long he strove in vain;
Till fir’d at length, he thinks it vain to spare
His rising wrath, and gives a loose to war.
In vengeance rous’d, the soldier fills his hand
With sword and fire, and ravages the land,
A thousand villages to ashes turns,
In crackling flames a thousand harvests burns;
To the thick woods the woolly flocks retreat,
And mix’d with bellowing herds confus’dly bleat ;
Their trembling !ords the common shade partake,
And cries of infants sound in every brake:
The list’ning soldier fix’d in sorrow stands
Loth to obey his leader’s just commands;
The leader grieves, by gen’rous pity sway’d,
To see his just commands so well obey’d.”?

The eminent critic Le Clerc, with whom Addison had formed
an intimacy in Holland, bestowed on the Campaign a highly
laudatory notice in his Journal Literaire, one of that voluminous
series of works by which this able writer taught the art, or estab-
lished the practice, of reviewing, properly so called. 2

It must have been the profits of this work, probably, which en-

a

JOSEPH ADDISON. 109

Wn

abled Addison in this present year to discharge his college debts
with interest. j

He likewise availed himself of his recent success as offering a
favorable occasion for presenting to the world in a small and
modest volume, his “ Travels in Italy.”

The work was inscribed by its author to Lord Somers, in a
dedication, part of which may with propriety be here inserted,
since besides the model which it affords of perfect taste and ele-
gance in this difficult kind of composition, it gives utterance to
political sentiments which were doubtless greatly strengthened, if
not originally suggested, by the German portion of his travels, of
which he has published no further account.

“My Lord: There is a pleasure in owning obligations which
it is an honor to have received, but should I publish any favors
done me by your lordship, I am afraid it would look more like
vanity than gratitude.

“J had a very early ambition to recommend myself to your
lordship’s patronage, which yet increased in me as I traveled
through the countries of which I here give your lordship some
account * for whatever great impressions an Englishman must
have of your lordship, they who have been conversant abroad will
find them still improved. It cannot but be obvious to them, that
though they see your lordship’s admirers everywhere, they meet
with very few of your well-wishers at Paris or at Rome. And I
could not but observe, as I passed through most of the Protestant
governments in Europe, that their hopes or fears for the common
cause rose or fell with your lordship’s interest and authority in
England,” &c.

Notwithstanding the high poetical reputation which Addison
had already established, and notwithstanding the high auspices
under which the work appeared, Tickell frankly avows that his
Travels were “ at first but indifferently relished by the bulk of
readers, who expected an account in a common way, of the cus-
toms and policies of the several governments of Italy, reflections
upon the genius of the people,a map of their provinces, or a
measure of their buildings. How were they disappointed,’’ he
adds, “when, instead of such particulars, they were presented
only with a journal of poetical travels, with remarks on the present
picture of the country, compared with the landscapes drawn by
classic authors, and other the like unconcerning parts of know-
ledge! One may easily imagine a reader of plain sense, but with-
out a fine taste, turning over these parts of the volume, which
make more than half of it, and wondering how an author, who

110 THE LIFE OF

a

seems to have had so solid an understanding, when he treats of
more weighty subjects in the other pages, should dwell upon such
trifles, and give up so much room to matters of mere amusement.
There are indeed but few men so fond of the ancients, as to be
transported with every little accident which introduces to their
intimate acquaintance.” He concludes however with the infor-
mation, that the fame of the performance “ increased from year to
year, and the demand for copies was so urgent, that their price
rose to four or five times the original value, before it came out in
a second edition.” Siew ‘

On this occasion, likewise, Addison was indebted to the good
offices of his friendly critic Le Clerc, who contributed to establish
the reputation of the work by a careful analysis interspersed with
many laudatory remarks. On one point, however, he did not re-
frain from thus gently reprehending the ignorance or credulity of
the author.

“Mr, Addison is of opinion that the figure of Jupiter Pluvius
sending down rain on the fainting army of Marcus Aurelius, and
thunderbolts on his enemies, is the greatest confirmation possible
of the story of the thundering legion. ‘This learned man would
apparently mean to say, that this figure isa monument of the
shower which fell on the Roman army, and of the thunder which
confounded the Germans; for as to the Thundering Legion, the
Jearned are agreed that it had that denomination long before this
circumstance; and that there is no probability that it was entirely
made up of Christians.”

_ Allthe sentiments in favor of free governments in which the
travels abound are cordially echoed by the critic, and the classical
remarks are generally approved. It seems that the author, while
in Holland, must have communicated to Le Clere his Dialogues
on ancient medals; for the article thus concludes:

«Mr, Addison has not a little applied himself to the study of
ancient medals; the mystical meanings of whose reverses he has
explained in a work well worthy to be made public, and which I
hope he will soon oblige the world with.”’*

“ A presentation copy of his Travels was thus inscribed by Ad-
ison :

“To Dr. Jonathan Swift, the most agreeable companion, the
truest friend and the greatest genius of his age, this book is pre-
sented by his most humble servant the author.” The circum-

~~

NN RR ee

* M. Le Clere’s Observations upon Mr. Addison’s Travels, &c. Done from
the French by Mr. Theobald, London, 1715.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 111

eee aaa

stance is worthy of notice as the earliest known memorial of the
intimacy of two persons, both enrolled in the first ranks of literary
fame, but in most other respects strikingly unlike, and it might
have been imagined, uncongenial. The origin of their acquaint-
ance is obscure, and has been differently reported. Sheridan, in
his life of Swift, gives an odd account of the earliest appearance
of his hero among the wits at Button’s coffee house; accoutred
in the rudest garb of a rustic curate, known to no one, accosting
no one, and earning for himself by his grotesque appearance and
strange behavior the nickname of the Mad Parson, till he thought
proper to cast his slough, and shine forth in the character of a
distinguished wit. Addison is represented as not only present at
these strange scenes, but presiding. Unfortunately for the accu-
racy of the narrator, the date assigned to this occurrence is some
period between the publication of Swift’s first political pamphlet, in
1701, and that of the Tale of a Tub in 1704; while we know
that during the whole of this time, Addison was on his travels,
and that he did not set up his servant Button in a coffee-house,—
nor indeed had the means of doing so,—till several years after-
wards; probably not till 1712. If therefore these circumstances
ever occurred, it must have been in some other coffee-house, and
not during the reign of Addison at Button’s; and no ground will
remain for imagining that it was as the “ Mad Parson”’ that Swift
first engaged the favorable notice of so nice an observer of men
and manners.

Congreve, who disarmed the envy of cotemporary wits by those
minor offices of social kindness which are often received with
more complacency than essential services, “ friendly Congreve,
unreproachful man,” as he is called by Gay,—who had seen Swift
at the table of Sir William Temple, and seems to have been the
introducer both of him and Addison to Halifax and Somers, was
probably the person by whom they were first made known to each
other. Afterwards, many opportunities would offer of improving
the acquaintance. Swift had not as yet forsaken the revolution
principles with which Temple had imbued him,—or it might
rather be said,—had not yet ceased to entertain confident antici-
pations of preferment from the same ministers who were the
patrons of Addison: He was a frequent absentee from his Irish
living, attracted by his ambition to the great metropolitan mart for
indigent talent; and at the tables of common friends, and in the
coffee houses to which the Londen men of this period constant-
ly resorted, the new friends must have met almost daily. No
rivalry arose between them,—a circumstance honorable to both;

4

112 THE LIFE OF
—the gifts of wit and humor which were common to them, ren-
dered their society a constant treat to one another; and from this
power of mutually delighting there arose a mutual good-will
which matured into sincere friendship. We have seen the warm
testimony of Addison to the genius and the social powers of Swift;
he in return, writing to his Stella of Addison, when political cir-
cumstances had caused a temporary estrangement between them,
says with regret, “I yet know no man half so agreeable to me as
he is.” Respecting the charms of Addison’s society, there was
indeed but one sentiment among qualified judges. “It was my
fate,’ said Lady M. W. Montagu to Spence, “to be much with
the wits; my father was acquainted with all of them. Addison
was the best company in the world; I never knew any body that
had so much wit as Congreve; Sir Richard Steele was a very
good-natured man, and Dr. Garth a very worthy one.”

Steele, on longer and more intimate knowledge of his eminent
friend than any other person could boast, in the letter to Con-
greve written shortly after his death, thus rapturously recalls those
golden hours of social bliss which could return no more. “He
was above all men in that talent we call humor, and enjoyed it
in such perfection, that I have often reflected, after a night spent
with him apart from all the world, that I had had the pleasure. of
conversing with an intimate acquaintance of Terence and Catal-
lus, who had all their wit and nature, heightened with humor more
exquisite and delightful than any other man ever possessed.”
He afterwards mentions “ that smiling mirth, that delicate satire

wand genteel raillery, which appeared in Mr. Addison when he was
free among intimates; I say when he was free from that remark-
able bashfulness which is a cloak that hides and muftles merit ;
and his abilities were covered only by modesty, which doubles
the beauties which are seen and gives credit and esteem to all that
are concealed.’’* :

Addison’s kinsman, Budgell, whom he admitted to a close ac-
quaintance, in perfect conformity with the account of Steele, men-.
tions that he was accustomed to call the intimate conversation
with a single friend, “ thinking aloud ;”’ and that he used to say
«there was no such thing as real conversation but between. two
persons.”” Pope, according to his disposition, has given a sinis-
ter interpretation to the incurable want of ease in mixed company
which hung upon him, even while admitting the charms of his
intimate society. ‘ Addison’s conversation,’’ he says, “ had some-

~~

* Preface to the Drummer.

a ss oS ee Ul ee
+

JOSEPH ADDISON. 113

thing in it more charming than I have found in any other man.
But this was only when familiar: before strangers, or perhaps a
single stranger, he preserved his dignity by a stiff silence.”
Young gives a different turn to the fact. “He was not free with
his superiors. He was rather mute in society on some occasions 3
but when he began to be company, he was full of vivacity, and
went on in a noble stream of thought and language, so as to
chain the attention of every one to him.” We may here perhaps
observe, that a man of delicate feelings will always avoid being
free with those who might in return be too free with him. That
powers so admirable, united with so much modesty, gained for
their possessor almost as many friends as witnesses of them,—
that it was henceforth in his power to command such society as
pleased him best,—and that the patrons who had first adopted
him redoubled their efforts to elevate him to stations suited to
their augmenting sense of his extraordinary merits, the. facts
abundantly prove. When the appointment of commissioner of ap-
peals in the Excise was first conferred upon him, he had indeed
been «expressly desired to regard it as a mere earnest of better
things; and early in 1706, by the recommendation of Lord Godol-
phin, he was appointed under Secretary of State to Sir Charles
Hedges. This minister, who ranked with the Tories, was super-
seded before the end of the year, after a hard contest, by the Earl
of Sunderland, son-in-law of Marlborough; an: ardent lover of
liberty, and a devoted partizan of Addison’s illustrious and early
patron Lord Somers; and by him he was continued in office
more willingly perhaps than he had been at first admitted by his®
predecessor.

Apparently the duties of the under secretary were not very
onerous, or could at least be executed for a time by a substitute,
for it was during his tenure of this post that Addison was able
to perform a duty of a very diflerent nature, which appeared likely
to open to him another road to future favor and preferment. In
consequence of the decided predominance of the Whig interest,
which, since the new elections of 1705, had been supported even
in the House of Commons by considerable majorities, the ‘Tory
leaders had been compelled to quit office to their rivals. Lord
Halifax, who had distinguished himself much in the debates of
the peers first on the Occasional Conformity Bill, and afterwards
on the articles of the Union with Scotland, was again high in
favor at court. The queen had restored him to his seat at the
council board, and on the passing of the bill for the naturalization
of the electress Sophia and her descendants, and for the better

8

114 THE LIFE OF

securing of the succession in the Protestant line, his lordship was
made choice of as the fittest person to carry that act, together
with the order of the garter to the electoral prince at Hanover.
On this brilliant mission he invited Addison to accompany him ;
Vanbrugh, lately appointed Clarencieux king at arms, went also,
by whom the ceremony of the prince’s investiture with the most
noble order was to be performed.* The little court of Hanover
put forth, as might be expected, all its splendors on this joyful
occasion ; and the ear! and his suite were entertained with every
possible demonstration of welcome and mark of honor. During
their stay, the nuptials of the electoral princess with the prince
royal of Prussia were celebrated; and on their departure the
prince accompanied Lord Halifax to the camp of the confede-
rates, whence his lordship proceeded to the Hague, where he
laid the foundations of a strict alliance between Great Britain and
the United Provinces, for the better securing of the ‘succession of
the Hanover family to the British crown. At the city of Am-
sterdam also, he was received with distinction by the magistrates
and with general applause by the citizens of every class.t ¢
The time and circumstances of the return of this embassy have
been accidentally preserved in a letter to Stepney from Mr. Til
son, dated from the Hague in August 1707.
“My Lord Halifax I hear is got safe into England, but he was
obliged to go with Mr. Addison to the Texel, and take his passage
on board the convoy for our East India ships.” ,
It is not greatly to the credit of the * Mecznas of the nation,’
ethat Addison, in the memorial to King George I. already quoted,
should have found occasion to say: “'That my Lord Halifax upon
going to Hanover desired him to accompany him thither, at which
time, though he had not the title of his secretary, he officiated as
such, without any other reward than the satisfaction of showing
his zeal for that illustrious family.”’
A series of letters, partly official, partly private, addressed to
his friend Stepney by Addison during the time that he held the

ee

* There can be no doubt that Vanbrugh went; but that he was not included
in Lord Nalifax’s suite appears from a line of his lordship to Robethon the Ha-
noyerian minister: ‘* Monsieur Nariseau and Mr. Addison, two gentlemen of
learning and business, give me their company, and I bring no more servants or
liveries than I have at home. Iam &c.

os 6¢ HALIFAX.??
From Original papers, &c., published by J. Macpherson. London, 1775.

+ See The Poetical Works of Charles Lord Halifax, with his Life, Svo. Lond.
1716: pp. 141, et seq. .

ee SE er

JOSEPH ADDISON. 115

office of under secretary of state, are here inserted, not only as
specimens of the business style of the writer, but as interesting
in themselves, since, while they afford various indications of his
sagacity and good sense, they are not destitute of some few
touches of his characteristic humor. One of prior date to Mr.
Lewis, perhaps Erasmus Lewis afterwards secretary to Lord
Dartmouth, precedes them.

MR. ADDISON TO MR. LEWIS.
July 26th, 1706.

Sir—I thank you for yours of the 2d, which I received at the
duke of Marlborough’s camp. Mr. Cardonnel will give you a
better account of all transactions here than I can doe. The duke
of Marlborough received a letter from prince Eugene, on Saturday
last, that confirms his passing the Adige, and gives great hopes of
further successes. He tells his Grace, that the Duke of Orleans
was arrived in those parts to command the French army; if he
had resolution enough to enter on such a post, when his army was
in such a situation. The duke of Vendome, they say this morn-
ing, is got among the I’rench troups, on this side. A trumpet
from the enemy says, that three lieutenant-generals are broken for
misbehaviour at Ramellies. Their names are, counts Guiscard,
d’Artagnan, and Monsieur d’Etain. All agree here, that the last
battle was gained purely by the conduct of our general. I am,
Sir, &e.

J. AppIson. |

{From Original Papers, &c., arranged and published by James Macpherson,
Esq., London, 1775, 4to. Vol. 2, p. 58, Literati.)

MR. ADDISON TO MR. STEPNEY.
Whitehall, Sept. 3, 1706.

Sir—lI beg leave to congratulate you upon your removal toa
province that requires all those great abilities for which you are
so deservedly celebrated, and at the same time to renew to you
my assurances of an eternal gratitude and esteem. ‘Tho’ I have
forbore troubling you with professions of this nature, I have often
had an opportunity of mentioning my obligations to you, and the
great respect I shall always have for so extraordinary a character ;
as well in other countries as in England. I shall take the liberty
to trouble you with the news of the town and office, since | am
better settled in my correspondencies than I was formerly, and

116 : THE LIFE OF

: TT Si IIT FOL
may now look upon you to be in our neighborhood. ‘The union
at present takes up all public discourse, and ’tis thought will cer-
tainly be concluded at last, notwithstanding the late popular com-
motions. Our Barbadoes fleet is arrived under convoy of two men
of war, and I hear Sir Bevil Granville died on board one of ’em
on his return from his government. We have just now received
a Lisbon mail, and as [am very much straitened in time, I send
you an extract of a letter [ received thence. I am with great re-
spect, Sir, your most obedient and humble servant

J. AppIsoN.

I am desired by one Mr. Johnson, an English bookseller at
the Hague, to recommend him to your custom. He is a very
understanding man, and the Lord Halifax’s and Somerset’s agent
for books.

MR. ADDISON TO MR. STEPNEY,.

Cock Pitt, Nov. 8. 1706.

Sir—We hear that on the Fast-day appointed in Scotland to
beg a blessing on the proceedings in parliament relating to a
union, that several of the clergy took occasion to show their aver-
sion to it. Mr, Loggan, an eminent divine in Edinborongh, had
for his text the 11" verse of the 3" of the Revelations, « Behold
I come quickly, hold that fast which thou hast, that no man take
thy crown.’”’ Another, they say, desired the Lord in his prayer,
that as he had formerly made their nation one of the heads of
Europe, he would not now make it one of the tails. But as it is
natural for a turbulent, discontented party to make more noise
than those who are pleased with the ordinary course of .affairs,
though they are much the fewer in number, so they tell us that
not only the parliament, but throughout the kingdom, the majority
is for the union.

I have seen a printed memorial, as it is call’d, that has been
presented to the Duke of Burgundy, and by him, as I am cer-
tainly informed, laid before the King of France. It proposes for
the recruiting the army, and raising money in the present exi-
gencies, that all the superfluous lacqueys be immediately pressed
for the army, which, by his calculation, will amount to threescore
thousand. He then calculates the number of officers and pensions
employed in the finances, taxes, posts, &e., which he reckons at
fourscore thousand, half of which he would have suppressed, and
their persons and pensions to be employed in the army.. For a

— ll i ei? ae ne ,riyrures iY i lil — 1 oS

JOSEPH ADDISON. 117

_ further supply of money he would have a coin of base alloy
stamped, with which the King shall buy up all the works in gold
and silver, in convents, palaces, &c., and turn them into current
coin, which, by his computation, would bring in two-thirds of
money more than there is now in the kingdom. One of these
books has been sent into England, and they say makes a great
noise in its own country.

A ship is come into Falmouth that left Lisbon ten days ago,
which is four days since our last packet came away,) that says
there were then upward of threescore transports and sixteen men
of war; but that neither Sir Cloudsley Shovell nor my lord Rivers
was then arrived. P

Since the writing of this I have received a Jong account of the
Scotch affairs, which I send by itself: so begging you will ex-
cuse this trouble, I am Sir &c.

MR. ADDISON TO MR. STEPNEY.

Sir—On Wednesday morning arrived a packet-boat from Lis-
bon, with letters of the 10. of Nov. N. 8. They brought us
the news of the safe arrival of all our descent fleet, and that Sir
Cloudesley Shovell and Lord Rivers dined at the consul’s the day
before, where they had a conference with the Secretary of State,
but it was thought they would stay there no longer than to get
forrage and provisions, and refit their ships, which will take them
up a month at least. Some letters say the Portuguese ministers
were very importunate with them to employ all their forces on
that side, and those who pretend to dive into affairs, think it is
only out of a design to render them ineffectual; but by all our
advices from Lisbon we have reason to think, that since they find
the King of France is likely to fall, they would willingly come in
for their share of the spoil, and consequently contribute what they
can to it. Mr. Methuen, I hear, declines his envoyship, and very
much solicits leave to return into England; but if he may suc-
ceed his father in his embassy, it is not doubted but he will be
content to stay there some time longer. On the 10". Nov., the
Winchester man-of-war was sent express to Alicant from Lisbon
to advise Lord Galway of the arrival of the fleet.

Mr. Crow, who was named for envoy to the King of Spain on
a negotiation of commerce, is now preparing for his government
of Barbados, and that whole affair being put into the hands of
Mr. Stanhope, who is now with King Charles, under the charac-
ter of the Queen’s envoy, it is supposed that several of his friends,

118 THE LIFE OF
who fancied he might be shocked by Crow’s commission, have
interposed in the affair. ]

Edinburgh Noy. 8th. Letters of this date that came in this
morning, gave an account of several heats and addresses against
the incorporating union. It looks very odd that there should be
so great a majority in parliament against what seems to be the
bent of the nation, and that they have taken no care to confront
addresses on this occasion. The particulars of their transactions
will I know be sent to you from other hands. :

The bishopric of Winchester will not be disposed of, as it is
said, till the next session of parliament is over; which may pro-
bably have a good effect on the bench of candidates for it.

I am much obliged to you for yours of the 23". and the place
you give me in your memory; and shall ever be, with the great-
est esteem, Sir, &c.

OC OO

J. ADDISON.
Cock-Pit Nov. 15 (1706)

MR, ADDISON TO MR. STEPNEY.

Sir—Yesterday the Dulce of Marlborough came to town, and
notwithstanding his Grace had defer’d his arrival till the dusk of
the evening, and endeavour'd to enter as privately as possible, the
common people of Southwark discover’d him, and immediately
giving the alarm to their brotherhood in the city, attended him
with huzzas and acclamations to the court. ‘

A credential is dispatching from the Queen tothe King of Por-
tugal, to engage his Majesty to treat with Earl Rivers about the
operations of the ensuing campaign on that side and in Valentia.

We have a strong report in town of my Lord Keeper’s being
married to Mrs. Clavering; but I do not hear that his Lordship
owns it.

There is to-night a general Council held at Kensington, designed,
as it is supposed, to prorogue the Parliament a week longer.

Our last letters from Scotland give great hopes of their coming
to a speedy and happy conclusion in the affair of the Union.

We had yesterday a very joyful report in the city of the arrival
of nine East-India ships at Kinsale in Ireland, upon which the
stock of the new Company rose very considerably; but I find that
they have heard nothing of it at the Admiralty, so that it was pro-
bably an invention of the stock-jobbers.

We expect suddenly to hear of a governour of the Tower,

JOSEPH ADDISON. 119

Guernsey, and Sheerness, which are all three at present without
a head.

Mr. Methuen, I am informed, will have the character, at least
the appointments, of an ambassador; that being at present so ex-
pensive a post, that he could not think of entering upon it on the
foot of an envoy.

_I just now hear Major-General Withers is made governour of
Sheerness; and I am told that Mr. Prior has been making an in-
terest privately for the headship of Eton, in case Dr. Godolphin
goes off in this removal of bishops.

We have no particulars of Scotch news, besides what are to be
met with in the public prints. I am, Sir, &c.*

[Stepney Papers. Vol. 1, fol. 73.]
34, Decr.
“Sir—My Lord Sunderland was this night sworn into the
Office of Secretary of State*for the Southern province, but it being
very late, and his Lordship in a Hurry of Businesse and Ceremony,
he has not time to notifie it to any body, for which reason he has
ordered me to present his very humble Service to you and let you
know that he will write to you with his own hand by the next
post. Iam Sir Your most Humble Servant
J. Appison,
White-hall 10%, 34.1706. Mr. Stepney.

(Stepney Papers. Vol. 1, fol, 75.]
10'» Dect

Sir—I am very much obliged to you for your kind Letter of
the 14 N.S. and for the favour you have shown to the person I
recommended to you at the Hague. I hope I need not offer you
all the Services of my little post whenever you think proper to
employ me in any of them. I believe my Lord Halifax, with
whom I have often had the honour to drink your health, hath let
you know from his own hand that he has bin attack’d by a fit of
the Goute, which is at present pretty well over. You may pos-
sibly have heard the late Regulation of the Secretary of State.
Whoever enters on that Office hereafter is to succeed the person
that quits it in the same Province, but at y° same time to be reputed
y° Junio" Secretary, w™ is the foot we are now upon. I hear S*

* From Epistolary Curiosities ; Series second, edited by Rebecca Warner, of
Beech Cottage Bath. Svo. Bath, 1818.

120 THE LIFE OF

| STOTT... EOE TT
Philip Meadows Junior is design’d for Vienna: and that M" Me-
thuen is the more unwilling to succeed his Father in Portugal by
reason y° accounts that pass’t through his hands between England
and Portugal are not so clear as might be Wish’t. We expect
alteraons in yo" Commission, and that Two of the Board, who at
present do all y* Business of it, will be remov’d to make room for
L* Stanford and I dont hear the other. L* Huntingtowr has mar-
ried M's Heneage Candish without y* consent or knowlege of his
Father the Earle of Disert. This we look upon as an Omen of
Union between the two Nations. Iam Sir Your most Obedient
and most Humble Servant * Yale

J. ADDISON.
10°, 10, 1706. Mr" Stepney.

[Stepney Papers. Vol. 1, Folio 71.]
Whitehall 10% 13 [1705]

Sir—We had last night an Express.from Lisbon that brought
news of the Death of y* King of Portugal, which comes to us from
the Ambassadour and several other hands, tho the Portugal Envoy
has not yet receiv’d any advice of it, and has bin just now with
me to know if the facheuse nouvelle be True. We hear there
are three prevailing partys at present in that Court, though I dont
know how they are distinguisht but only in General that Ours is
the weakest of the Three, tho the Common people in general are
for us. It happens therefore very luckily that our fleet and Army
are on the Spot, which cannot fail having a very good Influence,
M" Methuen who has not yet receivd his Instructions and Creden-
tial of ambassadour, is now at Lisbon and has done very good
Office in this nice Conjuncture, tho he has not acted as y* Queens
minister but only a friend to the Service.

We had also late last night an Express from Lord Galloway and
M® Stanhope. They tell us Carthagena was then likely to be
besieg’d and that they did not expect it shou’d make any defence,
as the Event has sufficiently prouved. They were in no pain for
Alicant nor their own army, having several mountainsand difficult
passes between them andthe Enemy. I must tell you as a Secret
that both L* Galloway and Stanhope make very pressing requests
to be Recalled, and I] believe You will not think it Impossible for
’em both to be Really Sick of an Austrian Administration. TL
Galloway has already heard that his Commission was to supersede
L" Peterborows but that has had no Effect on him, and I verily
believe the other will persist in his desire of coming home not-

ee eee ee

JOSEPH ADDISON. j 121

withstanding the addition of Three pounds-a day by Vertue of his
Satiter diet leet? for settling the Commerce &c. They are
oth of opinion y‘ there are but two Generals in y* world fit to
command in chief in those parts, & as one of ’em is engaged ne-
cessarily on this side of y* world they propose the sending for the
other out of Italy. Iam S* Yo" most Obed' Humble Servant
J. Appison.

My L* Sunderl' orders me to give you his most humble Service
& to let you know y‘ he will be very much obliged to you if you
will send him y* news of yo" Circular, or wt ever ig

[This letter has been injured by wet, and perhaps has lost something on the
bottom margin.]

(Stepney Papers. Vol. 1, Folio 77.]
Lisbon 17 Dece: 1706

On Tuesday last Coll Worsley arrived here from Valencia hav-
ing been about 14 days in his passage, and brings the Confirmacon
of the following Accot viz'.

That in Cuenca was taken a German Reg‘. a Spanish Reg.‘
with a Neapolitan, besides a Detachm' of 6U0 men of English
Dutch & Portuguese.

In Elche was taken Brigad". Killegrew’s Dragoons & a De-
tachm'. of 400 foot, & as much Corn as would have served the
Army all Winter.

There are at least 7000 Recruits wanting in y® English Army,
for our Battalions there are reduced to 200 men one with another.

It will be difficult to provide the Army with Horses where we
go, thé the King will take up all in the Country.

Weare preparing to saile for Alicant where they expect us w™
the greatest impatience, Our arrival here has freed them of the
Ennemy who designed to have besieged Alicant & Valentia. The
Portuguese own likewise that our presence has done them service
on this juncture of y° Kings Death, for they suppose there would
have been otherwise some disorders. The new King says he
will act as vigourously as his Father.

* The New King Don Juan is about 17 years old & has con-
firmed all Officers in their places, he is of a-very mild disposition
and ’tis supposed will follow his fathers Councills. Lord Rivers
continues here packing up Straw, but ’tis said will Sail hence the
latter End of the month, the men and horses are in very good

~~ Sey TT
.

™?

122 p THE LIFE OF

health. We have little news from Spain, some deserters tell us
that the Duke of Anjou has cut down all the woods near Madrid
to raise Money, and that the Duke of Berwick has been defeated
near Alicant, but little credit is given to it. They are in great
apprehensions at Cadiz & fortify every place they can.

«The Marquis de Montandre who has bin driv’n back to Yar-
mouth was last night sent for back to Town: so that in all pro-
bability he will carry different Instructions from those he has to
Earle Rivers, since y°® posture of Affaires in Valencia is laid open
by the Last Mail. L* Galway seriously desires to Retire notw‘"-
stand? His Commission is to take place of L* Peterborows and
Earl Rivers, not having that Interest w* K. Ch. as one woud
wish. Iam S* You" most obedient Humble Servant

“J, AppIson.”

10', 20. 1706.*

[Stepney Papers. Vol. 1, Folio 91.]

27 Dec*.

Sir—Private Letters from Scotland say that the T'wo Glasgow
men in Custody at Edinborough have confess’d in their Exami-
nations who have bin y* great Incendiaries in the Late Tumults
of that Kingdome, and that upon sending for them up they have
proved to be Servants or Retainers to y® family of the D. of H.
They tell us there has been a Duel between the Duke of Argile
and L‘ Crawford in which both have bin slightly wounded. They
are both of y® same side as to y* Union, but y® Duke of Argile’s
being made Captain of y* Troupe of Guards over y* others head
who is the Lieutenant it is supposed may have produced this
misunderstanding. We believe the Union will quickly be finish’t
on the Scotch side, the 6" & 8 Articles being pass’d through.
Some apprehend great disputes on the twenty Second that deter-
mines the numbers to sit in each house of Parlament, but the pre-
sent members of the Scotch parlament being those who have the
greatest concern in this Article, it is probable they woud not have
cleard the way to it had they intended to have stopp’d there. Last
Week Brigadeer Meredith married one M™ Paul a Maiden Lady
of about Eight thousand pound fortune. Brigadeer Cadogan suc-
ceeds General Churchill in the Towr, and L Essex the Earl of

* N.B. The Lisbon Mail is in two hands. As far as * is an office copy.

The rest in the hand of one who wrote the letters, which Addison only signed.
Addison’s part is marked “ Bi

JOSEPH ADDISON. 123
ee eS NS at Tan eee
Abingdon. General Churchill is appointed Governor of the Isle
of Guernsey. I am Sir Yo" Most Obedt Humble Serv'

J. Appison.
* Whitehall. 10% 27%, Mr Stepney.

[Stepney Papers. Vol. 1, Folio 79.]
Lisbon Jan: 31.1707
(Copy of a letter by y Last Lisbon Mail.)

S'—We are now likely to have more of L* Rivers Company
than was expected. The last orders from England have put the
officers very much out of humour, they were in hopes of seeing
Valencia but must now stay here, and tis feared will meet w™
great difficultys, this Country not being able to supply them wt
Carriages & Mules sufficient for a March towards Madrid w™ is
the Scheme laid: On the other hand K. Charles and L" Gallway
will be dissappointed & pressed hard, & have wrote to L' Rivers
to desire him to come w" all his forces thither; If the Packett
boat from England had stayed but 2 days longer the Fleet had
been gone.

On y* I‘ instant Don Juan was crowned King of Portugall in
what they call here great Pomp & Solemnity; some days since 3
of our men of War being sent out by S' Cl: the forts at y° mouth
of y° River fired at them, however they kept on their course &
received all their fire but returned none: upon this 8" Clous: sent
to the King to know whether it was a declaration of war, but
they excuse it & have imprisoned a Lieutenant of one of the
Forts, & the King promises he will stand by his fathers Alliances.

“Tt is very probable that our forces receiv’d fresh orders for
Valencia before they disembarqued, there having bin such dis-
patch’d to ’em.

«No body here knows what to make of the firing on our Men of
War at Lisbon. The Duke of Cadaval is Governo" of the Fort
that playd upon us, and probably will not be a little mortified to
find His Citadel of so little consequence for y® safety of the Town.
M' Methuen presented a smart Memorial but was answerd with
a frivolous Excuse that y*® Governour had orders not to let a cer-
tain Genoese Vessel in port come out, and that not knowing Her
by sight he was resolved to stop all, that She might not escape
him. Their Secretary of State at y° same time complaind of o*

* Date in the same hand as the date of No. 45.

124 THE LIFE OF

“deg Ain apace en OIG LORI tages

Vessels that they did not come to Anchor under y* Fort upon their

firing at’em. It is probable y* Sub-Governour will be sacrificed.
We talk of raising, some say three & others Six New Regim*.

Iam Sir Yo" Most Obedient Humble Servant '

“J, AppIsoNn.”’
«“ Whitehall Jan. 10. 1706.”

[Stepney Papers. Vol. 1, Folio 85.]

21, Aprill 1707."

“« Sir’—This Morning the Duke of Marlborough accompanied
with his Dutchesse set out for Margate in order to take his Voyage
for Holland, the wind being fair.

Dr. Chetwood by y* D. of Marlborough’s recommendation is
made Dean of Glocester.

I hear Colonel Hunter is to go Deputy Governour to Virginia
under the Lord Arkney.

The Heralds have bin before a Committee of Council and re-
ceived orders to adjust the Arms of the two Nations on the Pub-
lick Seals &c. to be made use of after the first of May.

Brigadier Palmes is to succeed Lieutenant General Windham
as Colonel of that Regiment.

The City is full of the talk of a Peace, but I hear nothing of it
at this End of the Town.

Mr. Musgrave lost a Thousand pound very nicely in the House
of Commons, for upon a Division whether he shou’d have five
or six Thousand pound for an Equivalent to his Toll at Carlisle,
the Tellers gave it him by a Single Vote, but upon a Review which
was demanded by one Mr. Coatsworth, no friend to Mr. Musgrave,
the single Vote was against him. “Iam Sir Your Most Humble
Servant

“J, ApDIsON.”’
“Mr Stepney.”

[Stepney Papers. Vol.1, Folio 81.]

Whitehall 25, March 1707.
Sir—We expect a Mail from Lisbon with great Impatience,
and have only heard from Valencia by way of Genoa that money
and Provisions are there in great plenty. Our West India Mer-
chants are in great pain for the Lee-Ward Islands which are

Oe

* The date is in the same handwriting as the former erroneous one. It should
probably be March, not April.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 125

very naked and defenceless, and it is fear’d Du Quéne’s Squad-
dron is designed for those parts, thd ’tis more probable they have
only the Conveying of the Galeons in View, having no land-men
on board. ‘The packet-boats from Ostende to Dover having hitherto
' fall’n into the hands of Privateers a new Method is proposed and
under consideration for securing them. The Duke of Marlborough
is still at Margate with the Dutchesse and I hear intends to stay
there till the wind changes, which has kept his Grace there already
these four days. “1am with great truth and respect 8" Yo" Most
Humble Most Faithfull Serv‘ J. Appison.”

“ Mr Stepney.”

{Stepney Papers. Vol. 1, Folio 83.]
28. Aprill*

S".—Yesterday the Queen passt the Annuity Bill, and tho
several had giv’n out that the Fund it goes upon wou'd never be
fill’d up, the whole Sum was Subscribed to as fast as the names
cou’d be taken, and above a hundred thousand pound return’d.
The Fund is for 1,120,000 lb. and the Annuity at Sixteen years
purchase for 96 years.

Last night the Queen Sign’d a Proclamation for a General
Thanksgiving to be observed on the 1* of May for the Union,
and will Her Self celebrate it at S'. Pauls.

A Commission is ordered to search into the Losses sustained
by the Inhabitants of the Lee-Ward Islands that some Reparation
may be made ’em and proper precautions taken for the future.

Her Majesty sends a Letter to the Republick of the Grisons in
Confirmation of the Treaty made with them by Mr. Stanyan and
the Emperours Envoy. The Articles that concern Her Majesty
are the first and fourth, by which She engages to Indemnifie the
Grisons from any Losses they may sustain by the Germans in
their March, to protect ’em against the Resentments of the French,
to comprehend ’em in the Treaty of Peace and do’em good Offices
with the Emperour.

“ There is a talk of S" Thomas Hanmores being to succeed M*
Mansel and the Latter to be made a Lord, with many other changes
y' y° Town usually makes at the End of a Session of Parlament.
_° J] am Sir Your most obedient Humble Servant

«J, ADDISON.”

“March 28. 1707. M* Stepney.”

ed

* The date 28 Apriil is either the date of receipt, or written in mistake for
28 March. It is not in the handwriting of Addison, nor of his amanuensis,

126 THE LIFE OF

EEE _yyxy~—x—e eee

[Stepney Papers. Vol. 1, Folio 87.]

“ Sir—The Queen has sent a Letter of Reprimand to the Lower
House of Convocation for some Intemperate behaviour that has
lately pass’d among ’em tending to the diminishing H. M® prero-
gative as Head of the Church, w™ H. M. lets em know she par-
dons for this time but will make use of other methods with them
in case they do the Like for the future.

This morning the Town was surprised with the news of a
marriage solemnised last night at the D. of Montagu’s house be-
tween L* Hinchinbrook and the only Daughter of Lady Anne
Popham.

By our Last Letters from Valencia we find the K. of Spains
friends are all, except the Count de Noyelles, very much out of
humour at his intended Journey to Catalonia. I hear that Earl
Rivers & L" Essex talk of returning home, y° Command being in
the hands of L‘Gallway. They design to march towards Madrid
by y® way of Arragon and by that means leave y* Tajo on y° left,
the passing of w°" would be difficult & dangerous.

Prince Lichtenstein, Count Oropeza, and Count de Cardona are
the Cabinet Councellours. The great & only misfortune they
have in y* present favourable Conjuncture is y* division among y°®
General Officers.

You will doubtless hear of our talked of Changes from other
hands. I am Sir Yo" most Humble Servant

J. Appison.”

“Whitehall Apr. 11.1707. Ml" Stepney.”

[Stepney Papers. Vol. 1, Folio 89.]

«Sir—I send you Enclosed a Letter from my L* Halifax and
thank you for all the kind ones receivd from your side.

This day L" Sunderland had a Son Christened, The Queen.
Godmother & y® Duke of Marlborough and L* Realton Godfathers.
They say Jack How, M" Blathwait, and Prior, Shake. The
Dutchess of Marlborow has invited Lady Peterborow to dine with
her & name her company, who are D" Garth L* Wharton L* Hali-
fax & L" Sunderland. The Earl of Manchester will I believe
have directions to call at Vienna in his way to Venice. It was to
day proposed in y* House of Commons to Let in French Wine
among us, but y* proposal was received so warmly by one of y*

JOSEPH ADDISON. 127

Members that it immediately fell to our great mortification. I am
Yo" Most Obed Servant
J. Apptson,’’*
“ Decbr. 17. M' Stepney.”

CHAPTER VIL.
1706 to 1708.

Opera of Rosamond. Unsuccessful on the stage and why printed. Lines on it
by Tickell. His introduction to Addison and favor with him. Addison as-
sisted in the Tender Husband. Doubtful nature of his connection with the
Warwick family. Letters to the young earl. Rise of his acquaintance with
the Dowager countess whom he afterwards married, Political movements.
Gradual Preponderance of Mrs. Mashham and Harley and Bolingbroke. Pam-
phlet on the necessity of an augmentation. Renewal of his intimacy with
Steele. Notices from Steele’s correspondence. Pecuniary transactions be-
tween the friends. Correspondence private and official with Mr. Cole, Mr.
Wortley Montagu, Earl of Manchester.

Ir is no slight instance of that ardent devotion to literature by
which Addison was so constantly distinguished that he should have
ventured to signalize the first year of his appointment to a political
station of real business and important trust, by the production of a
dramatic poem for music. It appears that while on his travels he
had frequently given himself the entertainment of attending the
representation of the Italian Opera in its native country, and on his
return, finding this amusement recently introduced on the London
theatre, and struck with the absurdity, perhaps more apparent than
real, since music has her own tongue and seldom permits any other
to be distinguished,—of an audience sitting to hear a performance
in a language of which they were almost universally ignorant,—
he conceived the idea of writing an English opera.—Such was the
origin of his Rosamond. Unfortunately, he was himself no judge
in the art which he condescended thus to patronize ; and through
the unskillfulness of the English composer employed, who pro-
duced, according to a report cited by Sir John Hawkins, a mere
“jargon of sounds,’ the piece was coldly received, and fell after

* This whole series of letters are transcribed from the originals in the British
Museum. The order only has been changed where it was obviously erroneous.

128 THE LIFE OF

ARR RR eee ss eee ewe

&

two or three representations. As no fact is more notorious than
that a large proportion of our most harmonious poets,—Dryden of
the number,—have been totally destitute of musical ear, it is evi-
dent that there can be no correspondence between the principles
of melody in poetic numbers and in music, and that sweet verse
will not necessarily make sweet song; yet it must probably have
been from belief in the existence of such a correspondence-that
the author of Rosamond has taken pains to adorn it with lines and
stanzas which are among the softest and most flowing in the lan-
guage. It bears in other respects also the marks of careful and
artist-like finishing, and if as a drama it makes but a small part of
the enduring fame of a writer so eminent in other departments,
this, in the judgment of no very indulgent critic, is far from being
imputable to its want of merit.* By the publication of this beau-
tiful drama, its author, shaking off the discordant accompaniment
which had marred his harmony, appealed, and not in vain, to the
good taste of the reading world. Among the testimonies in its

~

* <¢ About this time,’? writes Dr. Johnson, ‘the prevalent taste for Italian
operas inclined him to try what would be the effect of a musical drama in our
own language. He therefore wrote the opera of Rosamond, which, when ex-
hibited on the stage, was either hissed or neglected ; but trusting that the public
would do him more justice, he published it, with an inscription to the Duchess
of Marlborough; a woman without skill, or pretensions to skill, in poetry or
literature. His dedication was therefore an instance of servile absurdity to be
exceeded only by Joshua Barnes’s dedication of a Greek Anacreon to the Duke.
It may be remarked that the critic here, in the vehemence of his own party-spirit,
and his eagerness to chastise Barnes, has neglected two very obvious differences
in the cases: first, that an English piece, and of so light a kind as an opera,
might have been dedicated without ‘* absurdity” to any lady of quality whatever;
but secondly, that this particular opera,—the scene of which is laid in that very
manor of Woodstock which had recently been granted by the crown to the Duke
of Marlborough, and in the fable of which the exploits of this great captain are
introduced by way of prophetic vision, illustrated with a plan of the rising towers
of Blenheim Castle,—could have been dedicated, in all reason and propriety, to
no other person living than the Duchess. And after all, the dedication thus
inveighed against, is a mere inscription of the simplest form. ‘To the work it-
self, however, Dr. Johnson has done ample justice in the following terms: ** The
opera of Rosamond, though it is seldom mentioned, is one of the first of Addi-
son’s compositions. The subject is well-chosen, the fiction is pleasing, and the
praise of Marlborough, for which the scene gives an opportunity, is what perhaps
every production of human excellence must be, the product of good ‘luck im-
proved by genius. The thoughts are sometimes great and sometimes tender;
the versification is easy and gay. There is doubtless some advantage in the
shortness of the lines, which there is little temptation to load with expletive
epithets. The dialogue seems commonly better than the songs. The two comic
characters of Sir Trusty and Gridiline, though of no great value, are yet such as
the poet intended. Sir Trusty’s account of the death of Rosamond is, I think,
too grossly absurd. The whole drama is airy and elegant; engaging in its pro-
gress and pleasing in its conclusion. If Addison had cultivated the lighter parts
of poetry, he would probably have excelled.”

ee

JOSEPH ADDISON. 129

favor, there arrived from his own university a short poem so ele-
gant in its style and versification, and so happy in its topics of
commendation, that Addison, always a willing patron of literary
talent when fortune put it in his power, and touched no doubt in
this instance, by the honor done to the merits of a favorite and ill-
treated offspring of his own genius, lost no time in making inquiry
for the author. He proved to be Thomas Tickell; the son of a
Cumberland clergyman, and an under graduate of Queen’s Col-
lege, Oxford. 'The personal acquaintance that followed fixed the
destiny of Tickell, and was the foundation of all his prosperity in
life. He appears speedily to have become the habitual companion,
often the inmate of Addison, and his amanuensis. We shall here-
after find him the associate of his distinguished patron both in his
literary and political career; his second in office when secretary
of state, and finally his executorand the editor of his works. The
ability and conduct, the worth and honor manifested by him on
all occasions, secured him the general esteem, and reflected back
on his patron the credit of discerning and well-placed kindness.

It was about this period that Steele published his comedy of
the Tender Husband, with a very affectionate dedication to Addi-
son. Several years afterwards, in the concluding paper of the
seventh volume of the Spectator, he made the ingenuous declara-
tion, that this play had in it so many applauded strokes from the
pen of his friend, that he had ever since “thought very meanly
of himself that he had never publicly avowed it.’’, We thus learn
that from an early stage of his literary career, Addison had been
led to seek in the drama a frame for those witty conceptions and
humorous delineations of character which were native to his genius,
but for the conveyance of which a fortunate chance afterwards dis-
covered to him a better adapted vehicle.

At this period of Addison’s history, we are compelled again to
regret that scantiness of information on the part of his immediate
representatives which has left one of the most interesting circum-
stances of his private life,—the origin of his connection with the
family of the last Earl of Warwick of the name of Rich, involved
in obscurity and perplexed by circumstances difficult to reconcile.
That it was in the capacity of tutor to this young nobleman that
he first attracted the notice of the dowager countess his mother, is
affirmed by Johnson, has often been repeated since, and was cer-
tainly the cotemporary report. Thyer appears to have conceived
that he was his traveling tutor, and in Italy with him; which is
chronologically impossible; Addison was assuredly in Italy but
once, and Warwick was then in his cradle. So diligent an m-

130 THE LIFE OF

quirer as the late, Dr. Drake, in his “ Essays illustrative of the

Tatler, Spectator and Guardian,” declares himself unable to dis-

cover any evidence whatever of the fact of his tutorship.
Two letters addressed by Addison to this youth have, however,

been produced, as affording proof of this relation between the par-

ties. ‘These, although first published by Curll, bear every cha-

f=)
racter of authenticity, and run as follows:—

“My dear Lord,—I have employed the whole neighborhood
in looking after bird’s nests, and not altogether without success.
My man found one last night, but it proved a hen’s with fifteen
eggs in it, covered with an old broody duck, which may satisfy
your lordship’s curiosity a little, though I am afraid the eggs will
be of little use tous. ‘Chis morning | have news brought me of
a nest which has abundance of little eggs, streaked with red and
blue veins, that, by the description they give me, must make a
very beautiful figure on a string. My neighbors are very much
divided in their opinions upon them: some say they are a sky-
lark’s, others will have them to be a canary bird’s, but lam much
mistaken in the turn and color of the eggs if they are not full of
tom-tits. If your lordship does not make haste, [ am afraid they
will be birds before you see them, for if the account they gave
me of them be true, they can’t have above two days more to
reckon.

“Since I am so near your lordship methinks after having passed
the day among more severe studies, you may often take a trip
hither, and relax yourself with the little curiosities of nature. I
assure you no less a man than Cicero commends the two great
friends of his age, Scipio and Leelius, for entertaining themselves -
at their country-houses, which stood on the seashore with picking
up cockle-shells and looking after birds’ nests. For which reason
I shall conclude this learned letter with a saying of the same au-
thor, in his treatise on Friendship. ‘Absint autem tristitia, et in
omni re severitas: habent illa quidem gravitatem; sed amicitia
debet esse lenior et remissior, et ad omnem suavitatem facilitatem-
que morum proclivior.’ If your lordship understands the ele-
gance and sweetness of these words, you may assure yourself you
are no ordinary Latinist; but if they have force enough to bring
you to Sandy End, I shall be very well pleased. I am, my dear
lord, your lordship’s most affectionate and most humble servant,

J. ADDISON.
“ May £0, 1708,”

Ue _ —_

JOSEPH ADDISON. 131

THE SAME TO THE SAME.

My dearest Lord,—I can’t forbear being troublesome to your
Lordship whilst I am in your neighborhood. The business of
this is to invite you to a concert of music, which I have found out

ina neighboring wood. It begins precisely at six in the evening
and consists of a black-bird,a thrush, a robin-redbreast, and a bull-
finch. There is a lark that by way of overture sings and mounts
ull she is almost out of hearing ; and afterwards, falling down lei-
surely, drops to the ground as soon as she has ended her song.
The whole is concluded by a nightingale that has a much better
voice than M™ Tofis, and something of the Italian manner in her
divisions. If your lordship will honor me with your company,
I will promise to entertain you with much better music and more
agreeable scenes than ever you met with at the opera; and will
conclude with a charming description of a nightingale, out of our
friend Virgil—
* Qualis populed merens Philomela sub umbra
Amissos queritur foetus, quos durus arator
Observans nido implumes detraxit; at illa

Flet noctem, ramoque sedens, miserabile carmen
Integrat, et mastis late loca questibus implet.’?

«So, close in poplar shades, her children gone,
The mother nightingale laments alone;
Whose nest some prying churl had found, and thence
By stealth convey’d th’ unfeather’d innocence,
But she supplies the night with mournful strains,
And melancholy music fills the plains.””»—Drypen.

Your lordship’s most obedient
J. Appison.
May 27th, 1708.*

va

PPPIIIIILPPPIIIIELLILILLLLILL LPP PP ee

* A short letter of Addison’s, recently printed, has so much the appearance
of having been written from Sandy End at this time, and with a view to the sub-
ject of the two letters in the text, that this appears the fit place for its insertion.
The name of his correspondent does not appear, nor is there any date of year,
but the month is the same in which the letters to Warwick were written.

Dear Sir—If you are at leisure I will desire you to inquire in any Bookseller’s
shop for a Statius and to look in the beginning of the Achilleid for a Birds-nest
which if l am not mistaken is very finely described. It comes in I think by way
of simile towards y® Beginning of the Book, where the Poet compares Achil-
les’s mother looking after a proper Seat to conceal her Son in, to a Bird search-
ing after a fit place fora Nest. If you find it send it me, or bring it yourself,
and as you acquit yourself of This you may perhaps be troubled with more

Poetical Commissions from S* Your most Faithfull Humble Servant
; } J. ADDISON.

132 THE LIFE OF

On a careful inspection these letters will be found to leave the
’ situation of the writer with regard to the young earl in much ~
obscurity: That he was not his lordship’s domestic tutor is plain,
from the invitation he gives him to his own home at Sandy End;
and that he had, as yet at least, no superintendence of his studies,
is plain, from his professed ignorance what progress his young
friend had made in the Latin language. ‘The fact also of his fill-
ing at this period such,an office as that of under secretary of state,
might be thought conclusive against his being at the same time in
the subaltern employment of tutor to a child of ten years of age.
On the other hand, our total ignorance of any previous connection
between Addison and the Warwick family which could have led
him to take a spontaneous share in the instruction of the boy; the
evidence of his being afterwards engaged in a similar task else-
where, and the proof which will hereafter appear of the part taken
by him at a later period in arranging for Warwick’s removal to
college, are still stronger evidence on the affirmative side. Thus
we seem reduced to the conclusion, that the mediocrity of his
official emoluments, and still more, perhaps, his continual appre-
hension of losing them, persuaded the under secretary to submit
to such sacrifice of his official dignity as might be involved in
accepting, as a kind of family friend, the general direction or
superintendence only, of the education of a nobleman. The let-
ters themselves are beautiful models of the style of an accom-
plished man condescending to the inclinations of a child whom he
loved, and whose improvement he was anxious to promote.

It was out of this connection with the young earlas itseems, that
the intimacy with the dowager countess his mother arose, which
ended at length in a closer tie. But Addison, as yet, was by no
means in circumstances to aspire to such a connection; and many

My Hearty Service to Dr. Swift. The next Time you come bring a Coach
Early yt we may take ye Air in it.
May. 30.

[From C. J. Smith’s ‘* Historical and Literary Curiosities.? 4to. Literatim.}

The lines of Statius referred to are certainly the following, although they do
not, as Addison imagined, describe a birds-nest. If they had, he would proba-
bly have communicated them to the young lord.

‘¢ Qualis vicino volucris jam sedula partu,
Jamque timens qua fronde domum suspendat inanem,
coy hine ventos, hine anxia cogitat angues,
Hine omines, tandem dubiw placet umbra, noyisque
Vix stetit in ramis, et protinus arbor amatur.” Achillead i, 212.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 133

worldly anxieties and vicissitudes of fortune were yet to intervene
. before this accomplishment of his desires.

The disposition of Queen Anne,—the genuine heiress of the
capital weakness of her progenitor James I.,—rendered the period
of her occupancy of the throne, a strife of favorites still more than
a struggle of parties; and the Whigs, who had gained a tempo-
rary ascendency by the predominance of one lady, were now
threatened with a fall through the increasing authority of ano-
ther. he imperious rule of the Duchess of Marlborough was
drawing towards a close; and the extravagant and romantic
fondness for her once entertained by the queen, was fast changing
into aversion under the skillful operations of Mrs. Masham, the
new favorite. By this lady, the interests of Mr. Harley and his
friends were espoused, against the Whigs whom they had de-
serted, and so fortified, they had already ventured on several
trials of strength with various success. Before the conclusion
of 1707, Mr. Harley and several of his allies having pushed their
way into office, the queen had been encouraged to attempt the
holding of a council to the exclusion of the General and the Lord
Treasurer; but this effort had ended in a signal defeat, and
Marlborough and Godolphin had found means to effect the expul-
sion both of Harley and Bolingbroke from office. A long struggle
for the post of Secretary of State had ended, as we have seen, in
favor of the Whigs, by the appointment of the Earl of Sunder-
land; but their opponents were still unconquered and undaunted.
Assured by the most solid proofs of her daily augmenting favor
and credit with the queen, Mrs. Masham, prompted by Harley,
and swayed likewise, it is probable, by the obvious policy of
prostrating entirely the patroness whom she had supplanted, and
by whom she could never hope to be forgiven, unceasingly urged
the queen to complete what was called her emancipation. For
this purpose nothing less was demanded than the dismissal of the
duchess and her daughters from the chief posts in the household ;
of the great and victorious captain her husband from the command
of the army; of their near allies Godolphin and Sunderland, and
all the other Whig leaders from their respective offices, and the
substitution of Harley, Bolingbroke and the Tories.

Anne long refused, or hesitated, to embark in the troublesome
and formidable enterprise of accomplishing so entire a revolution ;
partly from constitutional timidity and irresolution, partly, it 1s
not unlikely, from some suspicions of the designs of the univer-
sally-suspected Harley, some remaining jealousies of a jacobite
interest, and an unwillingness quite to let go her hold of those able

134 THE LIFE OF

. eee... ee ees
supporters of her throne in whom she had most confided. But
they who duly weighed her original political predilections, the
radical weakness of her character, and the manner in which she
was swayed by personal motives, must have been well convinced
that the sentence of Marlborough and his allies was in effect past,
and its execution probably a question of a little time only. It
therefore behoved such as bore office through the favor of these
leaders to hold themselves in perpetual readiness to surrender
what was perhaps, as in the case of Addison, an only source of
regular or stated income.

In the meantime, the under secretary appears to have exerted
himself in the business of his place with zeal and ability, and he |
voluntarily contributed to the cause of his country, and his
party, a pamphlet entitled, “ The present state of the War, and
the necessity of an augmentation considered.” This piece,
written in a calm, argumentative strain, without any attempt at
awakening the passions, undertakes to prove, that true policy
would dictate a great and extraordinary effort for the purpose of
crushing the enemy in one or two campaigns, rather than a
slacker prosecution of the war, by which it might be spun on for
many years, and perhaps without final success. It sets out with
an enumeration of the causes which must continue to fix the
French nation “for ever, in their animosities and aversions to-
wards us, and make them catch at all opportunities of subverting
our constitution, destroying our religion, ruining our trade, and
sinking the figure which we make among the nations of Europe.”
The principle is laid down, that we ought never to make peace
until a complete separation shall have been effected between
France and Spain, whose conjunction is absolutely incompatible
with our safety. The remittances of bullion from the Spanish
settlements, are said to supply the sinews of war to the King
of France; and the ruin of our woolen manufactures is pre-
dicted, should France finally succeed in transferring the supply of
Spain with those fabrics from us to herself. At the same time,
our Levant trade, it is said, “ must likewise flourish or decay in
our hands as we are friends or enemies of the Spanish monarchy.
wet The Strait’s mouth is the key of the Levant, and will be
always in the possession of those who are Kings of Spain ;?—
An assertion remarkably refuted by a circumstance then indeed
little to have been anticipated,—our conquest and retention of
Gibraltar.

Since the return of Addison from the continent, the course of
their respective fortunes had restored him and his earliest friend

ase a lias
mt ‘

F JOSEPH ADDISON. 135

to the habitual enjoyment of each other’s society. Steele had
long since quitted the army; he had commenced his career as a
dramatic writer in 1704, with the comedy of the Funeral, fol-
lowed it up with the Tender Husband, in which it has been
mentioned that he had received his friend’s assistance, and added
another but less successful effort, the Lying Lover. He had
been appointed to an office in the household of Prince George of
_ Denmark, and about the same time, through the interest of Addi-
son with Lords Halifax and Somers, obtained the post of gazette-
writer,—the lowest, as he says himself, in the ministry,—with a
salary of 300/. per annum. He had also married in succession
two ladies of fortune; the last in 1707. Thus possessed of
sources of income, which with a moderate share of prudence
would have been ample for all his occasions; by the aid of his
dramatic reputation, and the charms of his lively conversation
and really amiable temper, he was now able to figure in the gay
world which he loved. The Kitcat Club admitted him a member
in consideration of his zeal as a Whig partisan, and he obtained
access to much of the same distinguished society which was fre-
quented by his more elevated friend ; but with the addition, there
is reason to believe, of a looser and less reputable set, composed
of what were then styled men of the town. Steele is said to
have behaved to Addison in society with a marked deference,
very uncommon and striking between old comrades, equals in age
and nearly so in all things, excepting genius and conduct. In
private, however, there can be little doubt that they associated
together on terms of great familiarity and confidence ; and were
frequent depositaries of the literary projects of each other.

The published correspondence of Steele, worthless as it is in
other respects, consisting in great part of hasty notes to his wife,
accounting for his detention from home by details of his engage-
ments,—supplies mauy brief incidental notices of Addison, some
of which deserve transcription or remark.

We find it to have been the custom of Addison to be scarcely
ever unprovided of some retreat in the immediate neighborhood of
London, where he might employ his evening and his leisure
hours, in study and the labor of composition :—a satisfactory re-
futation of the injurious account given by Spence on the authority
of Pope, which represents him as habitually passing his evenings,
«often far into the night,” in coffee-houses and taverns with afew
convivial and obsequious companions. Sandy End, a hamlet
of Fulham, from which his letters to Lord Warwick are dated,
was at this time his country retirement. He appears to have

136 THE LIFE OF
L SR st ee
occupied apartments in a lodging or boarding house established
at this place, whence several of the published letters of Steele are
dated, written at times when he seems to have been the guest of
Addison. “Having reached London,” he writes to his wife,
“about eleven, and dispatched what was further necessary after.
what papers Mr. Addison had before sent to press, | am just re-
‘turned here to dinner.”’ In the same month he mentions another
dinner with his friend at Sandy End, and an engagement to dine
at the country house of Mr. Sartre, Addison’s brother-in-law,
whither he was to be conveyed by him ‘in a coach and four.”
In October he says, ‘To-morrow your favorite Mr. Addison and
I shall set out for Hampton Court; he to meet some great men
there, I to see you.”
It is probable that the papers here mentioned as “ sent to press,”’
by Addison, were either official matters for insertion in the gazette,
or some of the political writings referred to in the “ Memorial’”’ to
George I., where we read the following passage. ‘That upon his
return to England (from Hanover) he took all occasions, both by
his writings and conversations to promote y® cause which God be
thank’d has so wonderfully prevailed, and to publish those Royal
Virtues which the nation sees at present in your Majesty.’’*

’ There are traces in these letters of some pecuniary transactions
between the friends: Steele informs his wife, in August. 1708,
that he has “ paid Mr. Addison the whole L000/.,” and at a later
period he says, ** Mr. Addison’s money you will have to-morrow
noon.’’ No part of the correspondence affords the slightest con-
firmation of the story willingly received by Johnson, but discre-
dited by Thyer, of Addison’s having put an execution into the
house of his friend to recover a hundred pounds which he had
lent him. Steele, in one account, is said to have told the circum-
stance with tears in his eyes; another version of the story makes
the debt 1000/., and represents Addison as remitting to Steele the
balance of the produce of the execution, “ with a genteel letter,”
informing him that he had taken this step in order to awaken him
toa sense of the inevitable ruin awaiting him from his habits of
negligence and profusion ; Steele, it is added, took the warning in
good part, and believed the proceeding designed to do him service.
Tales thus contradictory carry their refutation with them; but
when, at a later period, Steele, in one of his frequent exigencies
informs his wife that he has raised money elsewhere, “ but was
denied by his friend,” itis no improbable conjecture that Addison

a ae ee

* Tickell Papers.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 137

might be the person referred to. The accurate Dr. Birch had
doubtless some grounds for the observation, that their friendship
endured to the end, “ with a few little bickerings on economical
occasions.’” When we consider the profligacy,—almost the insa-
nity,—of Steele’s profusion, in contrast with the undeviating
economy and prudence by which Addison preserved himself free
from temptations to private dishonesty or political baseness which
might have proved too strong for his virtue, it will appear certain
that his purse could not at all times have been opened so freely
as we find that it had once been, to the selfish and unprincipled*
importunities of his reckless associate.

A few specimens both of the private and the official correspond-
ence of the under secretary during the years 1707 and 8, may
here find a place, The first relates with simplicity and feeling
an affecting incident. -

TO MR. COLE, AT VENICE.
Whitehall Oct. 31. 1707.

Sir,— Yesterday we had news that the body of Sir Cloudesley
Shovel was found on the coast of Cornwall. The fishermen who
Were searching among the wrecks, took atin box out of one of
the carcases that were floating, and found in it the commission of
an admiral, upon which examining the body more\narrowly, they
found it was poor Sir Cloudesley.* You may guess the condition
of his unhappy wife, who lost in the same ship with her husband,
her two sons by Sir John Narborough. We begin to despair of
the two other men of war and the fireship that engaged among
the same rocks. Iam sir &c.

The two following letters refer in part to an affront put upon
the English embassy at Venice, which derived importance from
the juncture at which it was perpetrated. The sailing of a French
expedition from Dunkirk, with the Pretender on board, for the
invasion of Scotland, to which the pope had contributed open en-
couragement and a portion of the expense, was the circumstance

RII a

* Sir Cloudesley Shovel was returning with his fleet from the Mediterranean
when his own ship and several others were wrecked on the Scilly islands. On
board the admiral’s ship every soul perished. Smollett relates in his history,
that ‘the admiral’s body being cast ashore was stripped and buried in the sand ;
but afterwards discovered and brought into Plymouth, from whence it was con-
veyed to London and buried in Westminster Abbey.”

138 THE LIFE OF

that had emboldened the republic thus prematurely to evince her
hostility of feeling towards the first of Protestant powers.

TO MR. WORTLEY MONTAGU. |

Dear sir—I am very much obliged to you for the honor of your
letter, and am glad to hear that there is no occasion for acquainting
you with the issuing out of the writs, which I hear will be on
Thursday next. ‘Ss

I send yout enclosed a print that is thought to be well written.
I fancy it is Manwaring’s.* We hear that the Duke of Florence
furnisht the Pope with the money that he contributed towards the
intended expedition. If so, his minister will be put hence very
suddenly. You have doubtless heard of the affront offer’d your
cousin Manchester in searching his gondola for English cloath,
which was found in some quantity aboard of it, by the corruption
of his servants. It was done at the time when the Venetians had
heard that the invasion had succeeded. Their ambassador is
banisht our court, and tho’ he has desir’d audience to explain the
matter, it is refused till your cousin Manchester has had the satis-
faction he demands, which is, that the searchers stand in the pil-
Jory, and the cloath be put into the gondola on the place where it
was taken out.

I long for some of your conversation in country air, and am
ever, with the greatest truth and esteem, sir Your &c.

J. ADDISON.
Whitehall Apr. 27. 1708.

Steele shall write to you by the next post.t

TO THE EARL OF MANCHESTER.

Cockpit, July 23, 1708.
My Lord—I make bold to congratulate your lordship on the
appearance of so honorable a conclusion as your Lordship is get-
ting to your dispute with the senate of Venice. I had the plea-
sure to day of hearing your lordship’s conduct in this affair very

ee,

PIDP PL LLL ID DID DD ee

* This gentleman, barely known by name to the general reader of the present
day, stood with his cotemporaries in the first rank of able writers, literary judges
and excellent conversers. He was the author of many occasional pieces on the
Whig side, a member of the Kitcat Club, and secretary to the Duchess of Marl-
borough. Some account of him, and a number of his very sensible and well-
written letters, are found in Coxe’s Life of the Duke of Marlborough.

t+ From a fac-simile in Addisoniana, vol. i.

ee a ee

JOSEPH ADDISON. 139

much applauded by some of our first peers. We hadan unlucky
business about two days ago, that befell the Muscovite ambassador,
who was arrested going out of his house, and rudely treated by
the bailiffs. He was then upon his departure for his own country,
_and the sum under a hundred pounds that stays him: and what
males the business the worse, he has been punctual in his payments,
and had given orders that this very sum should be paid the day
after. However, as he is very well convinced that the government
entirely disapproves such a proceeding, there are no ill conse-
quences apprehended from it. Your lordship knows that the
rivileges of ambassadors are under very little regulations in Eng-
and, and I believe that a bill will be promoted in the next parlia-
ment for setting them upon a certain foot; at least, it is what we
talk of in both offices on this occasion.
c ; I am, my Lord, your &c.

The Russian ambassador, sti]l more severe in his requisitions
than the Earl of Manchester, demanded as reparation on occasion
of the indignity offered him, the lives of the bailiffs by whom his
privileges had been so rudely violated; but English lives not be-
ing at their prince’s disposal, he was obliged to content himself
with such apologies and reparations as could be made. Another
letter to Wortley Montagu, is a pleasing proof that this early
friendship flourished still amid the anxieties of public business
and the distractions of London life.

MR. ADDISON TO MR. WORTLEY MONTAGU.

Dear Sir—I am infinitely obliged to you for your kind letter,
but am afraid that the present posture of affairs in our office will
not let me haye the happiness I proposed to myself of passing part
of the summer in your company. My brother Hopkins is aiming
at the House of Commons, and therefore desired: me to take out
my month in the country as soon as I can, that he may be at lei-
sure to push his interest there in its season.

At the same time I am very much disposed to go to the Bath,
where I hope to put myself in good humor for the rest of the
year, and gain as much benefit by the waters as a friend of mine
did about a twelvemonth ago, I wish your inclination would

_ determine you to the same place, or that going thither or coming
back, I might have the honor of waiting on you; for I hope you
don’t think it a compliment when I assure you that I value your
conversation more than any man’s living, and am, with the great-

140 THE LIFE OF

est truth and esteem, sir, your most affectionate friend and most
obedient servant. “ang
Whitehall, May 1,.1708. '

I think of setting out next week with Col. Frowde, in a coach
that we shall hire for ourselves, to the Bath.

To the same friend he soon after communicates the state of the

war as follows:
August 17, 1708.

Dear Sir—The last time I had the honor to see you, I was in
so much haste that I could not tell you I had been talking of you
téte-a-téte to my Lord Halifax that day, who expressed himself
with a great deal of friendship and esteem. I have not yet made
the grand experiments. We think here as you do in the country,
that France is on her last legs. By a mail just now arrived, we
hear that the Duke of Marlborough had made a movement to
prevent the junction of the two armies under the Dukes of Ven-
dome and Berwick. They give out that they will resign all
rather than lose little; and they of the army are of opinion that
we are at the point of a general action, which our friends are
very eager upon. ‘T'here has been an action between the Marshal
de Villars and the Duke of Savoy, which the French tell to their
advantage; but as soon as our letters come from Switzerland, we
hope to have a better account of it: for the French letters own
that, immediately after their pretended success, the Duke of Savoy
took Exilles. Iam, dear sir, your &c.

CHAPTER VIII.
1708—1709.

Earl of Sunderland dismissed. Addison loses the Vice-secretaryship in con-
sequence. Earl of Wharton, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, appoints him his
chief Secretary. Account and character of Earl Wharton. His policy and
conduct in Ireland. Letter of Swift respecting Addison. Of Steele. Addi-
son chosen a member of Parliament for Malmsbury. Unable to speak in the
House. Takes Budgell to Ireland. His official conduct. State of Parties.

Tue Earl of Sunderland was not suffered long to retain his
hard-won secretaryship; in the last month of 1708 he was dis-

—s or Toe ea ee eS eee 5
ie

: ,
JOSEPH ADDISON. 141

missed to make room for Lord Dartmouth, who ranked with the
Tories.* By this revolution his’ under-secretary would likewise
have found himself thrown back upon private life and his own
resources, had not a fresh patron stood forth, by whom he was
preferred to an office similar in its functions to that which he had
lost, but of higher trust, and probably superior emolument. Just
at this time, the Earl of Wharton, being appointed Lord Lieute-
nant of Ireland, named Mr. Addison his chief secretary. His
acceptance of so confidential a post under such a principal, hav-
ing been supposed by Dr. Johnson to require an apology, it will
not be improper here to enter at some length into the history and
character of this nobleman, certainly one of the most remarkable
men of his time.

He was the son of Philip baron Warton, whose name often
occurs in connection with the great struggle of the reign of
Charles I. By this king, when on his march against the Scots
in 1640, he had been committed to custody at York, and even
threatened with death as a sower of sedition, for presenting to his
majesty petitions for the calling of a Parliament ; but was speedily
liberated for fear of a mutiny of the army. In the civil war he
commanded a regiment for the parliament; but, like the greater
part of the Presbyterians, among whom he was a_ principal
leader, he protested against those steps which led directly to the
trial and death of the king, and retired from public life for some
time afier that event. Subsequently, however, he had accepted of
a seat in Cromwell’s council, and im his Upper House, on which
account he was in danger of being excluded from the act of in-
demnity passed at the Restoration. ‘Ihe arbitrary measures of
Charles LU. found in him a steady and courageous opponent; in
1677 he was committed to the Tower for declaring against the
legality of a Parliament which had been continued from the be-
ginning of the reign without a fresh appeal to the people. His

intimacy with Algernon Sidney afterwards brought him into so
much suspicion concerning plots, or pretended plots, that on the
accession of James II., he judged it for his safety to obtain a
license to travel; but he was one of the first noblemen in readi-
ness to greet the Prince of Orange on his arrival in London. To
the end of his days, defying pains and penalties, he entertained a
Presbyterian minister in his house as chaplain. This nobleman,
sometimes called the good Lord Wharton, died very aged in 1694.

ee Sunderland was not dismissed to make room for Dartmouth, till June
1710.°—Macaulay.

142 THE LIFE OF
Thomas, his son and heir, Earl and afterwards Marquis Wharton,
was born in 1647, and early sent by his father to travel, under
the care of a learned tutor of his own sentiments in religion and
politics. The love of civil liberty thus inculcated upon him re-
mained with the young nobleman throughout his career; and in
after life, notwithstanding his public conformity and professed
conversion to the Established Church, notwithstanding even the
character of an open scoffer at ail religion which was often cast
upon him, he was never able to clear himself from the reproach
of sectarianism. In fact, however, he soon manifested “an aver-
sion to the severities» of a puritanical life,” and ‘began to in-
dulge himself in all the pleasures of mirth and gallantry.’’ — Nor

_ did riper age teach him more control over his propensities; friend
and foe are agreed that his private morals always continued
worthy of a courtier of Charles Il. But a life of pleasure .only,
could not long suffice a genius so bright, so active, so fearless
and so aspiring. He threw himself into politics, became knight
of the shire for Buckingham, was one of those bold men who
presented the Duke of York to the grand jury of Middlesex as a
popish recusant ; and he voted for the, Exclusion Bill. When the
rash and culpable rebellion of the Duke of Monmouth broke out,
Wharton’s known intimacy with him justified a warrant to search
his country seat for arms. He held a secret correspondence with
the Prince of Orange, and was one of that small number of trusty
adherents to whom the plan of his intended expedition was pri-
vately communicated. On the prince’s landing he was the first
mar of consequence who joined him, hastening down to Exeter to
meet him with twenty friends, and the store of arms which had
not been found in the search of his house. He sat too in the
Convention-parliament.

Such eminent services were duly rewarded under the new
reign by the place of comptroller of the household, the lieutenancy
of the counties of Oxford, Westmoreland and Bucks, and other »
honors. The post of secretary of state to which he aspired was
refused him, on account, it is said, of some offence taken by the
king at his violence of temper, and his hostility to Robert, Earl of
Sunderland, a wily statesman who had rendered himself neces-
sary to a long series of administrations by his abilities and extra-
ordinary dexterity, though trusted by none. Wharton, if less
skilled to render himself indispensable in the government, was
largely endowed with every qualification which could render him
formidable when left owt of it. He was a great public speaker ;
somewhat coarse, it should seem, in his style, since Bolingbroke

eee

eel ee De OE een a | il ee | <_<,
*
s,

a

JOSEPH ADDISON. 143

alled him the scavenger of his party, but bold, fluent, ready, full
of wit, and merciless in sarcasin and invective : artful at the same
time, and dextrous in swaying the passions of a popular assem-
bly; better adapted therefore to the Lower House than the Upper;
but terrible to his adversaries in both. Added to this, he was
quite unrivaled in all the arts of canvassing and electioneering,
and certainly the greatest borough-monger of his time. At one
important juncture he is said to have returned thirty members.
His biographer affirms that he devoted no less a sum than eighty
thousand pounds to the maintenance of his parliamentary interest.

Not content with these distinctions, he was the first man on the
turf, paid great attention to his stud, and cultivated a matchless
breed of grayhounds. *In architecture and gardening he was
so skilled as to be consulted by all his friends, and his seat of
Winchendon in Wilts, on which he laid out vast sums, was a
model of taste and magnificence. * He had a peculiar way,” says
his biographer, * of engaging men in his friendship and sentiments.
When any young lords or gentlemen appeared first in the world,
he took care to fall in with their passions, and diverting them in
their way, never failed of gaining them over to his party when he
set about it. If they delighted in hunting, he assisted them in
their sports with his horses and hounds; if in racers, he mended
their breed for them; if in play, he had those about him who fitted
them, though himself did not much affect it; if in'mirth, himself
was the gayest company upon earth; if in a bottle, they were
humored in that, though he hated excess in it. He was not only
good to others for his own ends but for theirs too, and served his
friends upon all occasions with a readiness and industry which
seldom failed of success.”

On the accession of Anne, Lord Wharton, with others of the
Whigs, was dismissed from his offices, and the queen even went
so far as to strike out his name from the list of privy councilors

‘ with her own hand. But he was not thus to be put down. By
an able application of his various resources, and especially by a
well-timed alliance with Godolphin, he speedily regained such a
footing in the court as enabled him to extort from ,her Majesty, not
merely his restoration to the rank of a privy councilor, but by way
of amends, a favorite object of his ambition, advancement to an
earldom. Stillstriving onwards, he had now battled his way into
the great office of lord lieutenant of Ireland.

At the commencement of Lord Wharton’s administration, the
same arrogant and selfish faction which had delighted in tram pling
upon the rights and the feelings of the Protestant dissenters of

144 THE LIFE OF

England, was striving by the Schism Bill to aggravate the hardships
of the exclusive laws imposed already upon the Presbyterians of
Ireland. Swift, who in his character of a churchman, indulged
himself in an antichristian scorn and hatred of sectaries, informed
Archbishop King, in the letter in which he recommended Addison
to his acquaintance, that he had taken pains to give him right
notions on the propriety of these laws. How far he had been
successful in this laudable attempt appears not; Addison had strong
prejudices of birth and education to struggle against on this sub-
ject, but neither his temper, nor the purity and disinterestedness
of his pious affections, could have permitted him under any cir-
cumstances to join actively with forcers of conscience and oppres-
sors of their Christian brethren; and it*may be added, that his
writings contain far more censure and ridicule of the high church
party than of the dissenters. Lord Wharton, too, partly no doubt
from sound views of policy, and partly, it is probable, from secret
lingerings of respect for a form of religion which he had deserted
chiefly because it rebuked too sternly the license of his morals,
steadily resisted the aggravation, at least, of these unjustifiable
impositions. It was the leading object of his government to con-
ciliate the attachment of the whole Protestant interest of the
country. Against the unfortunate Catholics, on the contrary,
whom he regarded with well-founded political jealousy, and per-
haps with some impressions of puritanical aversion, it was his
policy to enforce the whole rigor of the penal code, combined with
the mortifications of social exclusion. He admitted, according to
his biographer, ‘no Romanist to his presence,” but with respect
to others, “ never was there a court at Dublin so accessible, never
a lord lieutenant so easy to be approached. His lordship there,
as in England, divided the hours between business and pleasure.
The day was for council, the night for balls, gaming tables and
other diversions. ... He took over with him Mr. Clayton, who
composed Arsinoe, Rosamond and other operas, and had several
entertainments of that kind in the castle, where the aldermen and
chief citizens’ wives came and were welcome, my Lady Wharton
receiving them with that humanity and easiness which adorn all
the actions of her life.’’ His court was crowded also with people
of quality who came over from England either to enjoy the plea-

sures of the place, and his society, or to push their interest with
so powerful a patron.*

* See Memoirs of the most noble Tho., late Marquis of Wharton, &c. 12mo.
London, 1715. This life is anonymous, but it is dedicated to the son and suc-

JOSEPH ADDISON. 145

A scene like this could not have been barren either of instruc-
tion or amusement for an observer like Addison; but this is the
fair side of the tapestry. The acrimonious Swift, who, although
he had accepted from the Jord lieutenant the title of his chaplain,
and would probably have accepted of anything better had it been
offered, held him in utter detestation, partly for political, partly
for personal reasons, has drawn us his character in the darkest
colors. He accuses him, in his government of Ireland, of num-
berless acts of oppression and injustice, of systematic rapacity,
and gross venality, in which, as in other kinds of corruption, his
“easy” lady was largely a partaker: of utter disregard of his
word, and of the most shameless and revolting depravity of man-
ners.

We want the means of reducing these charges exactly to their
just value; but knowing as we do, that Wharton was unscrupu-
lous, and though of great estate, sometimes needy from his profu-
sion, those of venality and extortion may well be credited; and
from what we learn of the general impression of cotemporaries
respecting both himself and his lady, it is likely that the rest are
rather exaggerations in degree than total calumnies. This lord
was the father of the notorious Duke of Wharton.

It might be either at the Kitcat club or in private society that
this nobleman first became acquainted with the’ genius and the
merits of Addison. He had quite enough of wit and taste himself
to be sincerely delighted with these qualities in another, and of
penetration to discover the uses he could make of such abilities,
anu he lost no time in inviting him down to his country house, and
procuring his return to parliament. 'T’o contemplate an Addison in
such society or under such patronage, is perhaps not quite satis-
factory; but it ought to be considered, that the principles of go-
vernment which Wharton had consistently as well as courageously
maintained, were entirely consonant with his own; that their po-
litical friendships were the same; that he was no longer of an age
to dread infection from libertine conversation or example; and if
in Ireland precedents were afforded him of official corruption, we
have good reason to believe that they were not followed.

Queen Anne is said to have been impressed with personal
esteem for the character of Addison, who had been first recom-
mended to her by the Duchess of Marlborough; and on his depart-

cessor of the Marquis, and has all the air of being written, as it professes to be,
on personal knowledge of him. It is however not to be implicitly followed,
being a kind of panegyric, though with many honest admissions, and curious
traits of character.

10

146 THE LIFE OF

ure for Ireland she conferred upon him the office of keeper of
the records there, raising the salary of the place to 300/. per an-
num for his encouragement.

Swift, whose warmth of friendship sometimes redeemed in part
the bitterness of his enmities, expressed himself thus cordially and
pleasantly respecting the’ new secretary to their common acquaint-
auce Colonel Hunter at Paris... .. I know no men so ill used
by men of business as their intimate friends. About a fortnight
after Mr. Addison had received the letter you were pleased to
send me, he first told me of it with an air of recollection, and after
ten further of grace, thought fit to give it me.....1am now
with Mr, Addison.... he is hurrying away for Ireland, and I
pray too much business may not spoil, le plus honnéte homme du
monde ; for it is certain which of a man’s good talents he employs
on business must be detracted from his conversation.”

To archbishop King he writes thus: “ Mr. Addison, who goes
over our first secretary is a most excellent person, and being my
intimate friend, I shall use all my credit to set him right in his
notions of persons and things. .... I will say nothing further of
his character to your grace at present, because he has half per-
suaded me to have some thoughts of returning to Ireland, and
then it will be time enough: but if it happens otherwise, I pre-
sume to recommend him to your grace as a person you will think
worth your acquaintance,”

A letter written at this time by Steele to an Irish gentleman of
the name of Keally, introduces us to another friend of Addison’s
afterwards included among his correspondents: LM

Jan. 20, 1709.

“Dear sir—I have your very kind letter of the Ist instant, and
am sorry you had not intelligence sooner of Mr. Addison’s being
secretary of state for Ireland. ‘The same messenger who carried
an account of it to the Lords Justices, had a letter for you in Dublin,
wherein [ told you the happiness your old acquaintance proposed
to himself in your friendship and conversation. I have commu-
nicated your friendly design to the secretary, relating to his being
chosen a member. He gives you his hearty thanks, and desired
me to tell you that he believed that matter already provided for.

«Since he had the honor to be named himself for this post in
Ireland, a brother of his has been chosen by the directors of the
et Company governor of fort St. George, in the room of

r. itt.

“Thad hopes of succeeding him in this office; but things are

JOSEPH ADDISON. 147
ALT rrr SEY sR eile RI ee ee oe
ordered otherwise, in favor of the North Britons, one of whom is
come into that employment very suddenly. In the meantime
something additional will be given to, dear sir, your &c.”’*

The seat in the House of Commons here referred to, was pro-
bably for the town of Malmsbury, which elected Addison to: the
parliament of 1709 through the interest, it has been generally
supposed, of Lord Wharton. He was however first returned,
probably by the influence of this patron, for the borough of Lest-
withiel, an election which was declared void, on the ground of
partiality in the returning officer. In common with several other
persons of high literary distinction, he was destitute of the quali-
fications of a public speaker. Once indeed he rose, but over-
powered by the “hear him, hear hims’’ which resounded on all
sides, he stammered, faltered, sat down in confusion, and never
ventured on a second attempt. As yet, however, this infirmity, by
which he was subsequently much obstructed in his public capacity,
was not anticipated ; his fortune was at the flood, and he seemed
wafted over to the sister island by the united gales of friendly
vows and royal favor.

Mindful of the advantages which he had himself enjoyed in
his humbler fortunes through the patronage of men whose abili-
ties had already raised them to power and distinction, Addison
showed himself ever promp in his turn to impart assistance to
obscure and struggling merit. Eustace Budgell, his kinsman, was
among the earliest objects of his protecting kindness, and notwith-
standing the circumstances which threw so deep a cloud over the
closing scene of this unhappy man, when his imprudence was no
longer checked in its career by the counsels and the awe of his
virtuous patron, there is good reason to think that this favor was
not bestowed on one at that time undeserving. Budgell accom-
panied Addison to Ireland in the capacity of his secretary, and
afterwards filled with credit some higher stations to which the
influence of his patron recommended him; he was also a respect-
able contributor to the Spectator and Guardian.

Everything we learn of the conduct of Addison in his new
post, confirms his own statement in his memorial, which is as fol-
lows: “'That your Memorialist was afterwards Secretary to the
Earl of Wharton in y* Government of Ireland and endeavoured
to behave himself with that Diligence and Integrity that he has
gained y° Friendship of all y* most Considerable Persons in that
Kingdom.”” That no particulars of his public conduct should now

aad

~~

~eeeen

* Steele’s Epistolary Correspondence I. 173.

148 THE LIFE OF
Me te Oo eee
be discoverable, is not surprising. A great portion of his duties
were doubtless a routine, or acts performed under the special
orders of his principal; and although he found means to acquire
much popularity with the Irish, there is reason to think that his
most welcome services to the Earl of Wharton were rather of a
political than a strictly official nature. Much of the business of
the Irish secretary was at this period habitually transacted in Lon-
don, and the lord-lieutenant evidently relied much on the reports
of so vigilant and sagacious an observer of the humors and fac-
tions of the court, for shaping his course among its rocks and
shoals.

During the year 1709, no actual change in the admimistration
was accomplished, and the Whigs in office appear to have kept
up the feeling, or at least the tone, of security. The Duchess of
Marlborough, seriously alarmed at the exclusion from office and
favor which she saw impending over herself and her friends, had
at length exercised so much command over her haughty spirit as
to attempt regaining by some attentions and complances the
alienated affections of the queen. But it was too late; the new
favorite had secured her ascendency, and the duchess humbled
herself in vain. It was not yet however a convenient season for
dispensing with the services of the Great Captain. In the cam-
paign of 1709 he had sustained his reputation by the victory of
Malplaquet; the terms of peace which the French afterwards
offered had been rejected from distrust of their sincerity, and the
queen’s speech on opening the parliament in November had
sounded a warlike note. Negotiations were indeed resumed early
in the spring, at which Marlborough himself was sent to preside;
but these likewise having failed,a fresh campaign was inevitable,
with which no other commander could be intrusted. It was believed
that the general would not however consent to retain his commis-
sion for a day after the dismissal of the lord-treasurer; and from

this consideration a short reprieve was granted to the party in
general,

a ee! ee lle ee _, = add ea i" ae aie lie

JOSEPH ADDISON. 149

CHAPTER IX. aeraree
1709 to 1712. |

The Tatler begun by Steele. Addison becomes a, contributor. State of man-
ners. Times favorable to the design. Character and purposes of Addison’s
papers. The war unpopular. General dismissal of the Whigs. Letter of
Addison in favor of Ambrose Philips. Notice of Hoadley. Letter to Des-
maiseaux. Situation of Swift. Letter of Steele to him.’ Correspondence of
Addison with Swift. Keally. Lord Wharton. Is re-elected for Malmsbury.
Adheres to his party. Writes the Whig Examiner. Account of the Work.
Attacks Sacheverel. Coolness with Swift on political grounds. Extracts
from Swift’s Journal relating to Addison. Steele drops the Tatler. And why.
Sets up the Spectator. Private concerns of Addison. Correspondence with
Wortley Montagu. Misrepresentations of his Course of Life by Pope or
~ Spence. Residence at Sandy End. Improved circumstances. Purchase of
' Bilton. Politica! services to the House of Hanover.

Ir the year 1709 be somewhat barren for the biography of
Addison as a politician,a man of business, and a member of social
life, it forms an epoch in his career as an author and in the lite-
rary history of his country.

In the early part of 1709 it was, that a paper, appeared, pub-
lished three times in the week, which undertook to unite obser-
vations on life and manners in all ranks and classes, “ Quicquid
agunt homines,’’ as the motto expressed it, with the ordinary
matter of a newspaper, foreign intelligence and advertisements.
Literary topics were also mingled, and Addison, then in Ireland,
had proceeded no further than the sixth number in the perusal,
when he recognized it as the production of his friend Steele, by
an original remark on a passage in Virgil which he had himself
communicated to him. He was struck with the plan, as offering
what his diffidence required, namely a safe and private channel
through which to pour forth the treasures which he hoarded in the
recesses of his mind, and thus “to give a rich invention ease ;””
he lost therefore no time in opening a communication with 7'he
Tatler, to whom he imparted in the beginning hints alone and
sketches, but afterwards entire papers, some of them finished spe-
cimens of his best manner.

Steele’ has expressed with all the ingenuous warmth of his
character, his feelings on the great and unexpected succor thus
afforded him: “I fared,” he says, “ like a distressed prince who

150 THE LIFE OF

calls in a powerful neighbor to his aid; I was undone by my
auxiliary. When I had once called him in, I could not subsist
without dependence on him.” And again referring to Tickell’s
expression, that the reputation of the ‘Tatler was “ advanced” by
Addison, he exclaims, « [t was advanced indeed, for it was raised
to a greater thing than I intended it; for the elegance purity, and
correctness which appeared in his writings were not so much my
purpose, as in any intelligible manner, as I could, to rally all
those singularities of human life, through the different professions
and characters in it, which obstruct anything that was truly
goodiand great. ...Ts0 I rejoiced in being excelled ; and made
those little talents, whatever they are, which I have, give way
and be subservient to.the superior qualities of a ‘friend whom I
loved, and whose modesty would never have admitted them to
come into daylight but under such a shelter.’ And with a just
and not ungraceful assertion of his own good service to the world
in thus acting the part of harbinger, or escort, toa greater per-
son than himself, he concludes that * whatever Steele owes to
Addison, the public owes Addison to Steele.”? In fact, when it
is considered to what a height the reputation of Addison himself
was elevated by this occurrence, the benediction given by his
father to their early friendship, might almost be esteemed pro-
phetic.

Steele was all his life an indefatigable projector ; but the perio-
dical papers of which he was the mventor and editor, were the
only schemes of his that ever greatly prospered; partly perhaps
for the very reason that they alone gave him, what Lord Bacon
coveted: “the command of more wits than his own.’”? From the
beginning he found many and able coadjutors. Swift, whom he
had flattered by bestowing upon his imaginary Tatler the name
of Bickerstaff, under which that-unmerciful wit had lately carried
on his attacks on Partridge the almanac-maker, immediately be-
came a contributor. Letters flowed in from all quarters, and
even had its literary character not been so wonderfully enhanced
by the communications of Addison, it is probable that the under-
taking would have proved highly successful; since it was at once
novel in its plan, and admirably adapted to the circumstances of
an age which required above all things to have a mirror held up
to it.

That long period of revolution and political reorganization
which began with the reign of Charles I., and terminated with
the accession of William III., may be considered to have swept
away the last remains of the social fabric of the feudal ages. In

|) . ae —

JOSEPH ADDISON. 151

its place the solid foundations of a more regular and better con-
structed constitutional edifice had been securely laid; but the
becoming superstructure of corresponding manners, uniting man-
lmess with mildness and grace, and the charms of ease and free-
dom, with due obedience to salutary laws and-checks, was still
deficient.

_ A furious party spirit, in which all the worst passions of civil
war survived its devastation and bloodshed, offered one formidable
obstacle to the progress of genuine civilization and social happi-
ness ; another existed in an important style of manners and morals
at once absurd, artificial, impure, and unsuited alike to the genius
and the institutions of the people. Public opinion was indeed
beginning to apply some counteraction here. The politeness of
the court of Charles II., already odious by its association with the
recollections of a scene of triumphant profligacy, domestic and po-
litical, of which most men were now ashamed, was branded with
an additional stigma from its origin. The true-born Englishman,
never more anti-gallican than during the long wars waged against
the ambition and perfidy. of Louis XIV, had learned to scorn as
French servility, French libertinism and coxcombry, its pervading
spirit of elaborate and exaggerated compliment, and universal
gallantry. Such studied frivolities, or ingenious refinements,
were now generally recognized as derogatory and repugnant to
the simplicity, the gravity, perhaps it may be added, the surliness
of the national character. Mercenary adulation, indeed, we may
confess with shame that there had always been Englishmen
abundantly forward in offering; but the perpetual obligation of
paying compliments to all kinds of persons, without immediate mo-
tives of interest, and as a part merely of the common courtesies of
society,—above all, the necessity of constantly flattering the whole
female sex,—light as it sits upon “the supple Gaul,” was felt by
the sturdy Briton as an insupportable burden or an ignominious
yoke. All professions, ranks and parties, the peer, the politician,
the man of letters, the commercial Whig and the landed Tory,
seem to have heartily concurred in a sense of this general griev-
ance ; and to have unanimously sought relief in the rude freedom
of taverns and clubs, those ‘schools of coarse good-fellowship and
noise.”’

~ It is apparently to the constrained imitation of the breeding of
the court of Louis XIV., superseded as yet by no other model, on
one hand, and toa constant desire and effort to escape from its
restraints and exactions on the other, that we are chiefly to as-
scribe those strange contrarieties, those alternate extremes of cere-

152 THE LIFE OF
TR: I
mony and barbarism, exhibited in all delineations of English
manners at this period. General excess in wine was indeed an
additional, anda still more disgraceful cause of irregularity and-
boisterousness of behavior. On the whole, rich as was the age
in men of wit, talents, learning and accomplishments, it seems no
great exaggeration to affirm, that the true gentleman, in the highest.
sense of the term, was a character scarcely extant.

To women this state of society was a truly calamitous one.
Amid all the forms of the most obsequious deference, never, in
this country, had the sex been in reality so contemned or so con-
temptible. Like spoiled children who have just attained the age
when petulance and caprices from amusing become intolerable,
they found on all hands chidings succeeding to flatteries, and satire
to deification. Marriage itself was treated with licentious and
insolent contempt, and when it took place, the transition was
strangely sudden from the obsequious lover to the lordly husband.
That almost universal neglect even of the common rudiments of
female education which had ensued upon the restoration, had left
them destitute of any power to attract by the graces of the mind;
and for the homely occupations of the good housewife, which they
had mostly learned to despise, they had nothing to substitute but
the dissipation, the idleness, the silly airs and affectations, of the
beauty and coquet; or according to the phrase then fashionable,
the fine lady. The general secession of the more respectable
portion of the other sex from their insipid circles, served to aggra-
vate the foibles of which it was in part the result and the punish-
ment; and it exposed them almost without defence to the enter-
prizes and the evil influences of an order of mortals known by the
appellation of beau, or women’s men.

The beaw was the exact counterpart of the belle to whom he
consecrated his attentions. Absorbed like her in the round of
amusements, in gallantry, and “the soft cares of dress,’’ he was
in no condition to humble her by his superior erudition. ‘Beau
spelling’? was on an exact level with the lady’s own, and their
reading was equally limited to songs and sonnets, plays, and Eng-
lish translations of French romances. Within the range of light
literature indeed, and the native tongue, scarcely anything else at
this time existed; and perhaps neither the full extent of this defi-
ciency, nor, consequently, the whole merit of those who supplied
it, has been sufficiently observed. Fictitious narrative in prose,
was then almost a lost kind of writing; for the date of the old
romance was nearly out, and that of the modern novel had scarcely
commenced. It seems indeed that the first publication of Con-

JOSEPH ADDISON. 153
greve was an attempt of this nature, under the title of “Love and
Duty reconciled ;”’ but it had no success even in its own time, and
is now totally forgotten. Some love stories of a vulgar kind there
doubtless were; and Mrs. Manley had constructed her New Ata-
lantis as a vehicle for scandalous anecdote; but before the appear-
ance of the Tatler, it was in comedy alone that interesting or
amusing portraitures of modern life and manners,—of characters
im action,—were to be found. Hence it was that the drama made
so great'a portion of the reading of the young and the gay; how
pernicious a portion few readers will require to be told.

Steele, with considerable humor, had still more power in the
pathetic; not indeed that of the buskin, but of every-day life;
hence his short narratives of domestic circumstances, often con-
veyed in imaginary letters, which have much of this quality, were
doubtless among the most attractive portions of the Tatler on its
first appearance. In fact, notwithstanding a considerable alloy of
what must now be reckoned for dross and refuse,—coarseness of
idea and bluntness of expression,—they still interest; and in good
part by virtue of the liberal, the humane, and the generous senti-
ments which they seldom fail to inculcate, and which evidently
came from the heart. ‘They contain especially, many earnest and
touching appeals against that ruthless despotism then customarily
exercised by parents with respect to their children’s marriages,
to which the whole happiness of life was often made a sacrifice;
and it was probably by them that public opinion was first brought
to bear against this crying evil, and a general correction or miti-
gation of it effected.

The delineations of Addison will be examined more at length
hereafter; but in this place it may be remarked, that their cha-
racter differed widely from that of Steele’s, inasmuch as the genius
of this great master had no bent towards the pathetic. His pic-
tures, much more finished in style, more correct in drawing, and
fuller of nice touches of truth and nature, are of the humorous and
satirical class, and turn rather on displays of character and man-
ners than on adventure. Both these originals made many imita-
tors; and perhaps it may be fairly suggested, that it was they
who sowed the seed from which, forty years afterwards, sprang
up the patriarchs of the race of novelists; Steele imparting the
vital spirit to Richardson, Addison to Fielding.

Of the general deficiency, even of men of rank and hereditary
legislators, with regard to one of the most essential branches of
general knowledge, we have a remarkable exemplification m a
passage of Evelyn’s Memoirs. This gentleman having, at Lord

154 THE LIFE OF
i were
Cornbury’s request, given him a sketch of a course of reading im
history, chiefly ancient, and by no means an extensive or critical
one, adds, “and by the time your lordship -has arrived thus far,
you will have performed more than any man of your quality can
pretend to in the court by immense degrees, according to my weak
observation, who sometimes pass my time at the circle where the
gallants produce themselves with al] their advantages, and God
knows small furniture.”’. It was doubtless out of his knowledge
of the continued prevalence of this kind of disgraceful ignorance,
that Addison, having previously recommended a young man of
the name of Harrison, often mentioned by Swift, to the office of
tutor to a nobleman, said to him, “ We who have gone through a
good school education may easily enough get to be good classical
scholars, but there is one thing that I would now advise you to;
read a good history of England, that you may know the affairs of
your own country.

It was a still graver deficiency which had some time earlier ex-
torted a severe remark even from the loose and reckless Otway :
*¢ Men read not morals now, it was a custom ;

But all are to their fathers’ vices born,

And in their mothers’ ignorance are bred.”?
In societies thus destitute of more creditable resources, the vigils
of the card table were found an indispensable protection against
the inroads of that weariness of an empty and insipid self, which
was modishly styled the spleen. Play became the most serious
business of life, and was often pushed to a ruinous excess by both
sexes. Even youthful beauties were sometimes totally engrossed
by it, though Nahe

«* A youth of frolics, an old age of cards,”?

might be the more frequent case.

Some of the evils of such a state of manners had begun to make
themselves severely felt, and remedies were sought. As far-as
the force of example could go, Anne endeavored to render her
court decent and religious; and a society had been formed under
high auspices, yet with small success, for Reformation of Manners;
but Steele deserves the praise of being the first writer who set
himself purposely and resolutely to work to put the sickle into so
ripe a harvest of follies and vices, He proposed, as we have seen,
to reform the world, or at least the town, although in him this
design appears to have been mingled at least with the vanity of
showing how well he knew it, and could entertain it with sketches
of noted characters, and hints at the scandal of the day. The

JOSEPH ADDISON. ~ 155

original purpose of Addison was perhaps little more, as has been
hinted, than to communicate to the public in an attractive form,
and without personal responsibility, the copious collections which
he had formed, partly of remarks, literary and critical, and partly
of observations on morals and manners; the mature fruits of his
studies, his reflections, and his experience of life at home and
abroad. But by degrees, the secret of his own genius was re-
vealed to him. The Tatler, in its later portions, is enriched with
some exquisite specimens of that delicate and graceful wit, that
original vein of humor, and that sportiveness of fancy, in the
union of which he had no predecessor or rival, and has had no
successor.

It was however not till the Tatler had been transformed into the
graver and more dignified character of a Spectator, that he fully
disclosed his resources to the world, and the subject will be re-
sumed hereafter.

In the meantime, public events were in preparation which, by
withdrawing him awhile from the avocations of official life, were
to give him leisure for a more constant devotion of his thoughts to
this his genuine and higher calling. The war, long, glorious and
popular, began to be felt by the people as a burden. The suc-
cesses of Marlborough in the last campaign had been greatly over-
balanced by the surrender of General Stanhope and his army in
Spain, and the consequent submission of the whole country, with
the exception of Catalonia, to the Bourbon competitor. Harley
and his party aggravated for their own purposes every example of
ill-success or ill-conduct in any department; and the queen, im-
patient at once to gratify her affection for the reigning favorite,
and her resentments against the deposed one, was evidently hasten-
ing with her best speed towards a change of ministry and a peace.*
The accomplishment of her wishes however still encountered seri-
ous obstructions. The directors of the Bank of England, the States
General and the Emperor, all interposed with earnest representa-
tions against the dismissal of her old advisers for others who were
regarded as secret friends, if not pensioners of France, and secret
enemies of the Protestant succession; and in order to conciliate
such powerful intercessors, the queen was compelled to promise
that Marlborough at least should retain his command. Nothing
ae ee ele Res

* <¢ Miss Aikin attributes the unpopularity of the Whigs, and the change of
government, to the surrender of Stanhope’s army: the fact is, that the ministry
was changed, and the new House of Commons elected, before that surrender
took place.?*—Macaulay.

‘

AAPL LLL IID

156 THE LIFE OF
ee Pe

however restrained her from inflicting on him various affronts and
mortifications, designed to pique him into a resignation; and be-
fore the conclusion of the year 1710 he found himself the only
member of the Whig, or war party left in office. The avocations
of Addison during this anxious and busy year, his sentiments on
public affairs, and the terms on which he associated with some
leading characters both in literature and politics, will best be learned
from his own correspondence and that of his friends, interspersed
with a few explanatory remarks.

The ministry, though nearly at the last gasp, had still it appears
some preferments at its disposal; and we possess in the following
letter a pleasing proof of the alacrity with which Addison exerted
all the interest he yet possessed in favor of a humble friend, whose
encouragement from the world was not-at this time equal to his
deserts. This was Ambrose Philips, of whose performances both
in dramatic and in pastoral poetry there will be occasion to. speak
hereafter. The situation he was soliciting was a secondary one
in the diplomatic line, and he appears some time afterwards to
have obtained a mission to Copenhagen which enabled him to
gratify the world with his poetical description of a frozen shower;*
a piece of first-rate excellence in its kind.

MR. ADDISON TO AMBROSE PHILIPS.

April 25. 1710.

Dear sir—Upon the receipt of your first letter I consulted with
Mr. Pulteney, who is very much your friend, and extremely de-
sirous to serve you, but as the province to which Muscovy belongs
is under Mr. Boyle he did not think it proper forme to move any
one else in that affair, designing to mention you to the Secretary,
who you know in his intimate friend, upon the first favorable op-
portunity. Since that I have received your second, and have got
Mr. Hopkins to join with me in the aflair of Geneva to my Lord
Sunderland, but his Lordship tells us that Dairolle has been named
to that post for some time. I knew the Marquis du Caen applied
to the Duke of Marlborough upon the same account. I have been
several times to speak to my L" Sommers upon this Occasion but
could not find him at home till about three days ago, and then he
was just going out with Lord Orford. However 1 took his Lord-
ship aside, and upon my telling him your desire in regard to

~t

* «¢The poem was written in March 1709, and printed in the Tatler of th
6th of May following.??—Macaulay, é . sty ee

JOSEPH ADDISON. 157
Geneva H. L’” promised. that he would move in it. I told him at
the same time what I had heard of Dairolle and that probably you
would be yery well pleased to succeed Dairolle at the Hague. I
likewise told his L*” of y* Vacancy that might possibly happen in
Muscovy, and begged H. L* to turn it in his Thoughts to yotr
advantage. He was very particularly attentive to me, and by the
very kind manner that he received what I had to say and that he
formerly has spoken to me of you, I promise myself y' something
may rise out of it for your Good. I intend to mention you once
more to His L? before | go for Ireland, and I believe it would not
be amisse for you to ground a Letter of Thanks upon the Gracious
Hearing he has already given me. I must beg you to present my
most Humble respects to Mr. Pulteney and I hope you have already
let him know how much [ love and honour him. Farewell dear
Philips and believe me to be more than I am able to expresse
Your most Affectionate and most Faithful Humble Serv‘
J. Appison.

Dick Steele and I rem’ber you once a day. Little Thomson is
y* same excellent youth he was.*

Another letter to the same correspondent without date, but
evidently written from Ireland, during the first or second secre-
taryship of the writer, possesses some interest on account of the
opinion which it expresses concerning the noted Pastorals of Phi-
lips. Perhaps it may be regarded as a civil intimation that his
pen might be better employed.

Dear Sir—I am very much obliged to you for sending me my
Letters from Mr. Vandewaters, but more for the Copy of your
Pastoral. I have read it over with abundance of pleasure, and
like extremely weli the alterations you have made in it, You
have an admirable hand at a Sheep-Crook, tho’ I must confess y°
Conclusion of your poeme woud have pleas’d me better had it not
bin for that very reason that it was the conclusion of it. I hope
you will follow the example of your Spencer and Virgil in making
your Pastorals the prelude of something greater. He that can be-
wail Stella’s Death in so good a Copy of Verses woud be able to
Anatomise her after it in a better. | intend for England within a
day or two, and shoud be very glad if I could be any way service-
able to you there. Yo" Faithfull Humble Serv‘

J, ADDISON.
[Addressed to Ambrose Philips.]
From “‘ The Autograph Portfolio.” London, 1837. 4to. Literatim.

AAA ARPA ADI
eee eae ato ee aaa

wees

* From the original MS. in the possession of John Scott, Esq., Westminster.

158 THE LIFE OF

i ee
The spring and summer of this year must have been passed by

the secretary for Ireland chiefly or wholly in London, whence he

thus informs his Irish friend Keally of the aspect of. affairs.

London, April 13, 1710.

Sir—We are here in a great puzzle of politics. Little Ben
winks, speaks half sentences and grows more mysterious than
ever. Dick Steele is entirely yours. Lord Halifax, after having
talked of you in a very friendly manner, desired me to give you
his humble service when I writ to you.’’* &e.

The person here so familiarly designated as “little Ben’ was
no other than Mr. Hoadley, afterwards the celebrated bishop. He
had recently so distinguished himself by his writings in contro-
versy with Bishops Bramhall and Atterbury, that the House of
Commons had specially addressed her Majesty to bestow on him
some dignity in the church, in reward of his services to the cause
of civil and religious liberty; a request with which she promised
compliance, but under the influence of her new advisers was in-
duced to omit the performance. Hoadley was likewise the author
of several small anonymous pamphlets referring to the state of pub-
lic affairs during this year of crisis. From the tone in which he is
here mentioned it appears, that although coinciding with him in
politics, Addison, from sincere reverence for the clerical character
and office, regarded with little approbation or respect this exercise
of his pen. In June, Congreve writes to Keally, * It is impossi-
ble any change can be in the court, and Mr. Addison not able to
inform you.” Soon after, however, we find him writing from
Ireland, and making no secret of the precariousness of his tenor of
office.

Mr. Desmaizeaux, his correspondent, was French, a refugee
probably, and a man of letters. He was the editor of the works
of St. Evremond, and perhaps had gained some favor with the
secretary as the biographer of Bayle, whose dictionary, as Tonson
reported, he usually found open on Addison’s table whenever he
called on him. It appears from Steele’s correspondence, that this
gentleman was his intimate friend, and that it was at his request
that Addison had taken him with him to Ireland, where he seems
to have recommended him to some appointment.

—_

* Steele’s Epis. Corresp. I. 188,

ae

JOSEPH ADDISON. 159

MR. ADDISON TO MR. DESMAIZEAUX.

Dublin Castle Aug. 1. 1710.
Sir—I did not care for answering your letter till I could do it
in some measure to your satisfaction. Ihave at last watched a
convenient season to move my L* Lieuten'. for your Lic’*. of ab-
sence, which he has granted till December next. I am affraid I
shall not then be in a capacity to serve you any further in this
particular, but if 1 can you may depend upon it. I heartily wish
you joy of your new post and am Ever Sir Your most faithful
‘Humble Servant
J. Appison.
Mr". Desmaizeaux*

The shocks given to private friendships are among the most
cruel effects of political changes; that of Addison and Swift, built
on a foundation which generally proves one of the firmest,—a
mutual and disinterested pleasure in the conversation of each
other,—is soon to be exhibited in a situation of danger, for the
comprehension of which it will be necessary now to observe the
position of Swift with respect to the Whig leaders. ‘Towards the
close of the former year, we find Steele addressing him as fol-
lows :—

MR. STEELE TO DR. SWIFT.
Lord Sunderland’s Office Oct..8, 1709.

Dear Sir—Mr. Secretary Addison went this morning out of
town, and left behind him an agreeable command for me, viz. to
forward the inclosed which lord Halifax sent him for you. I as-
sure you no man could’say more in praise of another than he did
in your behalf at that noble lord’s table on Wednesday last. I
doubt not but you will find by the inclosed the effect it had upon
him. No opportunity is omitted among powerful men to upbraid
them for your stay in Ireland. The company that day at dinner
were lord Edward Russell, lord Essex, Mr. Maynwaring, Mr. Ad-
dison and myself. . . . . Mr. Philips dined with me ‘yesterday ;
he is still a shepherd, and walks very lonely through this unthink-
ing crowd in London. I wonder you do not sometimes write to
me.

Si og ES Le IE nN 8 hee
* From the Birch Collection, Addit MS. 4281, art. 2.

160 THE LIFE OF
_ TOON: 5 eh
The town is in great expectation from Bickerstaff: what passed
at the election for his first table being to be published this day
sevennight. I have not seen Ben Took* a great while, but long
to usher you and yours into the world. Notthat there can be any-
thing added by me to your fame, but to walk bareheaded before
you. Iam &c.t

Similar hopes, delusive ones as it proved, from the favor of
Halifax, were thus held out to Swift by Addison himself in the
succeeding year; it is observable however that the clergymen
whom he mentions as the intended new bishops were both of them
known Tories.

MR. ADDISON TO DR. SWIFT.

Dublin Castle July 23, 1710.

Dear sir,—About two days ago I received the inclosed, that is
sealed up; and yesterday that of my friend Steele, which requir-
ing a speedy answer, I have sent you express. In the mean-
time I have let him know that you are out of town, and that he
may expect your answer by the next post. I fancy he had my
Lord Halifax’s authority for writing. IL hope this will bring you
to town. For your amusement by the way I have sent you some
of this day’s news; to which I must add that Doctors Bisse and
Robinson are likely to be the Bishops of Bristol and St. Davids:
that our politicians are startled at the breaking off the negotiations
and fall of stocks; insomuch that it is thought they will not venture
at dissolving the parliament in such a crisis. I am ever, dear sir
yours entirely.

Mr. Steele desires me to seal yours before I deliver it: but this

you will excuse in one who wishes you as well as he or any body
living can do.

Shortly after, Addison came over to England, and Swift ad-

dressed him in the month of August, from Dublin, in the following
terms.

DR. SWIFT TO MR. ADDISON.

I believe you had the displeasure of much ill news almost as
soon as you landed. Even the moderate Tories here are in pain

nnn nnn eee

* Swift's printer. t Steele’s Correspondence.

*

JOSEPH ADDISON. 161
at these revolutions, being what will certainly affect the Duke of
Marlborough, and consequently the success of the war.

I am convinced that whatever government come over, you will
find all marks of kindness from any parliament here with respect
to your employment; the Tories contending with the Whigs
which should speak best of you. .... . In short, if you will
come over again when you are at leisure, we will raise an army
and make you King of Ireland. Can you think so meanly of a
kingdom as not to be pleased that every creature in it who hath
one grain of worth, has a veneration for you? I know there is
nothing in this to make you add any value to yourself; but it
ought to convince you that they are not an undistinguishing peo-
ple...... 1 long till you have some good account of your Indian
affairs, so as to make public business depend upon you, and not
you upon it. ©

I read your character in Mrs. Manley’s noble Memoirs of Europe.
It seems to me as if she had about two thousand epithets and fine
words packed in a bag; and that she pulled them out by hand-
fuls, and strewed them on her paper, where once in about five
hundred times they happen to be right.

ae

The “ill news’’ referred to, was doubtless that of the dismissal
of Godolphin from the office of lord treasurer, to make room for
Mr. Harley ; which was justly regarded as the ,severest blow
which could be aimed at the duke, and the sure prelude of his
disgrace.

Mrs. Manley was the author of a work of scandalous notoriety,
—the New Atalantis,—as well as of other pieces eulogizing or
vituperating the public characters of the day, in one of which she
had thought proper to sound the praises of Addison under the
name of Maro. Notwithstanding the contempt with which Swift
here speaks of her performances, we shall soon find him carrying
on in close alliance with her the dirty and detestable work of a
party-assassin of reputation. ;

Addison’s office, here mentioned, was that of Keeper of the
Records for Ireland, concerning which he appears to haye received
an important favor recited in the document copied below.*

* Whereas y® office of Keeper of ye Records in Birmingham’s Tower in y® Cas-
tle of Dublin by Letters patent under y® great seal of Ireland, is granted to y®
Rt. Hone Joseph Addison Esq'*. on y surrender of Casack Baldwin gent, in
consideration of w surrender y® s". Joseph Addison paid to ye s¢. Casack Bald-

£
win 230 Ster. & consented & agreed to give him ye said Casack Baldwin an
Irrevocable Deputation of y¢ same with all fees due for making Copies & Certi-

162 THE LIFE OF

The weight of the commercial interest, thrown at this time into
the scale of the Whigs, still supported their hopes under all dis-
comfitures ; and those, they were not a few, who looked only to
their own immediate profit, still found cause to hesitate concern-
ing the principles it would be proper to embrace. Addison thus
reported the state of affairs to Mr. Keally early in August 1710.
«The Bank have represented that they must shut up upon the
first issuing out of new writs; and Sir Francis Child, with the
rest of the moneyed interest on the Tories’ side have declared to
the Duke of Shrewsbury, that they shall be ruined if so great a
blow be given to the public credit as would inevitably follow upon
a dissolution. We hear from all parts of England that the people
daily recover their senses, and that the tide begins to turn so

vad

ficates of y® Searches into such records as now are or hereafter shall be in s@,
office, & all other business to be done therein to y® sole & proper use & benefit
of him y® s@. Casack Baldwin without giving any acct. of yesame, Know all
men by these presents that I y* s‘. Joseph Addison do hereby constitute & ap-
point ye st, Casack Baldwin my Lawful Deputy to do execute & perform all &
every lawful act & thing that is or shall be nesessary in ye due & legal Execu-
tion of yes‘. Office by signing Copies of Records & justly keeping y® s*. records
in yest, Office, & I do hereby give, grant, & assign to ye sd, Casack Baldwin, ye
legal & just fees due for making Copies Certificates & searches & other busi-.
ness to be done in y® sd, Office, & if y* occasions of ye st, Casack Balwin shall
at any time during his sa. Deputation, call him for England or elsewhere, so yt.
y° st, Casack Baldwin cannot in person officiate in ye place of Deputy, I do
hereby constitute & appoint Arthur Baldwin of ye City of Dublin gent, Brother
to ye s@. Casack Baldwin, my lawful Deputy to act & do every thing yt. shall
be necessary to be done in ye st. Office, by signing copies of Records, &
justly keeping y® s‘, Records im y@ s¢, Office as afores’. until ye s’. Casack Bald-
win shall return from thence or elsewhere, to y® proper use & benefit of him
y® st. Casack Baldwin, Referring however to me y® sd. Joseph Addison & my
Assigns y° full benefit of ye Salary or Salaries yt. now is or are or hereafter shall
be allowed by ye Crown to ye Patentee or Patentees of y® sq. Office, In witness

ypereot I ye st, Joseph Addison hath put my hand & seal this 29 day of May

JosppH AppIson. ay

Sigil.

Signed Sealed & Delivered iti presence of
Jos. Kelly
J. Dawson
R. Fitzgerald

Sber, ye 15th, Examined Copia Vera,

E. Budgell.
[From the Tickell papers.]

“<

JOSEPH ADDISON. 163

strongly, that it is hoped the next parliament will be of the same
stamp with this in case of a dissolution.” .

Perplexed in the extreme by these fluctuations, Swift wrote
in the same month to Addison, begging his advice whether he
should at this juncture come over to England; and observing that
he expected every day to hear of the dismissal of Lord Somers,
else he might have hoped for some of his good offices. The par-

_ticular objects one or both of which he had at this time in view,

appear to have been the place of historiographer, and a prebend
then held by South, but which the old man did not-vacate by death ,
as soon as was expected and desired.
_ What answer Addison gave to the question of his clerical friend
does not appear; but Swift came over, as he had probably prede-
termined, and finding the Whigs, and especially Lords Somers
and Halifax, either not in a capacity to advance his fortunes, or
as he always resentfully maintained, not sincere in their declara-
tions of having always desired and endeavored it, lost no time’ in
making his applications to Mr. Harley and the Tories. He was
unsuccessful with regard to the office of historiographer, and ob-
tained at this time no church preferment ; but the ministers quickly
discovered in him, and eagerly enlisted in their service, the talents
of an able and formidable pamphleteer, and one of the most auda-
cious of party libelers.

Meantime Addison was occupied in London with the business
of his office and that of Lord Wharton, two of his dispatches to
whom have been preserved, and well merit transcription. ‘The
last curiously exhibits the anxiety of the lord lieutenant not to be
understood to have resigned till he was absolutely certain of being
turned out.

MR. ADDISON TO THE MARQUIS OF WHARTON.
London, August 24, 1710.

My Lord—This morning I had the honor of a visit from Mr.
Bertie, who upon my acquainting him with your Lordship’s con-
cern for his brother’s election, declared himself very much obliged
to your Lordship, but said his brother was so tired of sitting in
the house, that he would not be in it again upon any considera-
tion.

I hear from my Lord Dartmouth’s office that all the particulars
which I had in charge for your Lordship have been already com-
plied with, except that about proroguing the parliament, which I

164 THE LIFE OF

have desired may be dispatched forthwith to your Excellency, in
case it is judged necessary. , .

The privy council was to meet this night, in order (as it was
said yesterday) to place my Lord Peterborough at the head of the
admiralty, and to determine of the dissolution: but this morning
I hear from very good hands that there is advice of the Prince of
Wales being ready to embark with a body of troops at Dunkirk,
and that the admiralty is to attend the privy council upon the’
occasion,

It is said the Duke of Queensborough has had intimation of
such a designed invasion, about a month ago, from several parts
of Scotland. This report, I believe, comes from Sir George Byng,
and is of such a nature, that I should be cautious of mentioning It
to anybody but your Excellency.

Among the prints which I send you by this post, the Essay
upon Cries is said to be written by Mr. Harley, and that of Mr.
Bickerstaff Detected, by Mr. Congreve. Dr. Garth, under whose
hands I am at present, will not excuse me, if I do not present his.
most humble duty to your Lordship: the doctor this morning
showed me a copy of verses which he has made in praise of the
lord treasurer. ‘The Lord Islay is lately returned from Scotland,
and it is said the Duke of Argyle is expected every day from
Flanders. Iam with the greatest respect, &c. &c. :

THE SAME TO THE SAME.

.

London, Oct. 171710.

My Lord—I received the honor of your Lordship’s of the 13th,
and have sent the commissions mentioned in it according to your
Lordship’s commands; not, hearing as yet of anything that hath
passed, which should hinder your Lordship from signing them.

I must however acquaint your Lordship with a passage in one
of Dawson’s letters, dated the 3d instant, which did not come to
my hands till last night, having been sent afler me to Malmsbury -
by mistake.

I had mentioned to him, as your Lordship had told me you
would have it believed, and as you had yourself written the post
before to some of your friends in lreland, that you had signified
to her majesty your unwillingness to continue in that government
when all your friends were dismissed, or to that purpose; but at
the same time told him, that I believed your Lordship would not
be out of it till some months after. In answer to that letter he
writes to me in the following words: « You might be assured that

JOSEPH ADDISON. 165

whatever you writ to me was lodged in a safe hand; but what
you desired should not be taken notice of, came over hither by
twenty letters in the same post; and the Whitehall letters from
both secretaries’ offices, which came hither by the same packet
with yours, positively mention my lord lieutenant’s resignation of
his government to her majesty on the 22™ of the last month; so
that it is here no secret, and everybody says upon it that his excel-
lency cannot act any more on his commission, but that the govern-
ment is absolutely in the hands of the lords justices tilla new
governor is appointed.”

I will not take any notice of the receipt of this letter till I hear
further from your Lordship; having by the last post, and all along,
‘written in the character of secretary to the lord lieutenant. Your
Lordship is doubtless the best judge of this matter, how far the
resignation went, and how far it was accepted; or whether it
could be accepted effectually, but by superseding your Lordship’s
commission. I shall only take notice that your Lordship’s letters
to the secretary of state, and to the Lords justices in Ireland; the
first relating to the horses that are wanting there, and the other to
the draughting of 256 dragoons for the embarkation of them. bear
date Sept. 23. The Irish gentlemen are positive that your Lord-
ship will be succeeded by the Duke of Ormond, though there
goes a whisper among some of your Lordship’s friends that my
Lord Rivers is certainly designed for that employment.

Nobody here knows what to think of the present state of affairs.

- Those who got the last parliament dissolved, are as much asto-
nished, and they say troubled, for the glut.of Tories that will be in
the next as the Whigs themselves. 1 amwith great respect, &c.

Harley, a very mysterious, because a very irresolute and very
unprincipled politician, seems at times to have aimed at a kind of
middle course between the two grand political parties, and it is
doubtless to him that the last sentence of this letteralludes. Ad-
dison himself was rechosen for Malmsbury without a contest, but
in general the elections fully realized the predicted “glut of
Tories; which event was in great part produced by the triumphal
procession of Sacheverel to his living in Wales, attended by vast

-mobs of all ranks and classes, which caught at once and kindled
the flame of high-church fanaticism throughout the country. In
the meantime, every kind of reproach and obloquy was heaped
on Marlborough, so lately the ruler of the court and the hero of

the nation. {rs
The abruptness of these changes struck the beholders with

166 THE LIFE OF

tia

astonishment. “Things happen like earthquakes,” writes Con-
greve to his friend Keally, in the month of December, “ sudden,
unusual, and unforeseen. Mr. Addison very well applied a line
out of Gidipus yesterday, shah
«¢¢ One but began
To wonder, and straight fell a wonder too.’ ”?

On the feelings and conduct of Addison the effect of all these
incidents was of a kind directly opposite to that which they had
produced on Swift.

«¢ Unskillful he to fawn or seek for power,
By docirines fashioned to the varying hour.”

So far, indeed, from abating in the least of his warmth of at-
tachment for the party of his early choice, we find him roused to
an energy of zeal alien from his habits, and almost from his nature,
in defence of the falling fortunes of friends and patrons to whom
he was bound by the double tie of private affections and public
principle. They had lately experienced great annoyance from a
periodical paper entitled the Examiner, then conducted by Prior,
a deserter from the camp of the Whigs and the cause of Marl-
borough, toward whom he is accused of acting with base ingrati-
tude. Addison undertook the service of replying, or retaliating,
in the Whig Examiner; of which it was the design “to “censure
the writings of others, and to give all persons a re-hearing who
have suffered under any unjust sentence of the Examiner, a
paper which would have been more properly entitled the Execu-
tioner.”’

The first number of this paper appeared on September 14,
1710, and was devoted to a defence of those lines of Garth’s to
Lord Godolphin which Addison mentions in one of his letters to
Lord Wharton ; they having sustaineda rude attack at the hands of
Prior in the Examiner. ‘There is a good deal of sharpness as
well as ability in this paper, and the assailant is reprehended ina
tone of marked contempt. At the same time, the verses in ques-
tion being really very indifferent, although the production of one
of the first poets of the time, it was easier to retaliate on the critic
than to defend the object of his satire. The succeeding numbers
have much of Addison’s own vein of wit and humor. The Exa-
miner having brought forward a humble correspondent to tell the
public that the writer of this paper could furmmish mankind with

Le ee

* Tn our elder writers to censure has its primitive Latin meaning to estimate,

and does not necessarily imply an unfavorable judgment. Such is evidently its
sense in this place. :

JOSEPH ADDISON. toy

‘an antidote to the poison that is scattered through the nation,”
he says, it puts him in mind of the first appearance that a cele-
brated French quack made in the streets of Paris. A little boy
went before him, publishing with a shrill voice, « Mon pére guérit
toutes sortes de maladies.”” To which the Doctor, who walked
behind, added in a grave and composed manner, “L’enfant dit
vrai.” ;

One paper opens with an admirable panegyric on nonsense, by
which however he solemnly protests that he has had no design of
currying favor with his antagonist. He divides it into high and
low. The last, he says, ‘is the talent of a cold phlegmatic tem-
per, that in a poor dispirited style creeps along servilely through
darkness and confusion.’’ “On the contrary, your high nonsense
blusters and makes a noise. It stalks upon high words, and rattles
through pollysylables. It is loud, sonorous, smooth and periodical.
It has something like manliness and. force, and makes one think
of Sir Hercules Nonsense in the play called The Nest of Fools.’’
«We meet,” he says, “ with a low groveling nonsense in every
Grub Street production; but I think there are none of our present
writers who have hit the sublime in nonsense, besides Dr. 8 I
in divinity,and the author of this letter in politics.” It wasthus Ad-
dison brought to a termination equally public and abrupt, his early
friendship for Sacheverel,—the “dear Harry” to. whom his juve-
nile Epistle on the English poets was so affectionately dedicated!
Though always to be deplored, such ruptures are not however
always to be condemned; on the contrary, to renounce a private
friendship on public grounds may sometimes be an imperative
duty, and this is to be considered as a case in point.

The mildness of Addison’s disposition enabled him through
life, and in times infamous for the fury of faction, to maintain the
intercourses of friendship with persons very decidedly opposed
to him in politics; and his eagerness to put a scorn upon the
furious and mischievous rants of Sacheverel, proves his full con-
viction that there existed between him and their author an in-
compatibility never to be surmounted,—that between the sincere
man and the hypocrite,—the honest man and the knave. In fact,
Sacheverel was scorned by the very party which made him its
tool.

The grounds of the dispute concerning passive obedience and
the right of resistance, have seldom been better stated, and never
illustrated with more vivacity, than in the last number of the
Whig Examiner. Nor should it by any means be forgotten
among its merits, that this paper, in marked contrast with, its

168 THE LIFE OF

| OT. EEE IS
rival, is nearly free from personal reflections. — Severe upon
writings, it abstains in general from casting reproach upon thejr
authors. Ea oe

But party-pamphleteering was at best a kind of writing little
worthy of the genius of Addison, and thoroughly uncongenial to
his taste; and he dropped the paper at the end of the fifth num-
ber. Its satire had evidently not been unfelt by the ministerial
writers, since it is with exultation that Swift, who had now en-
rolled himself in that body, announces to a correspondent, in the
words of a Tory song, that it is now “ Down among the dead men.”
His satisfaction indeed, was no doubt augmented by the reflection
that he would thus be spared the pain of measuring himself in
single combat with a friend whom he could not cease to love and
esteem. Addison’s last Whig Examiner appeared on October 8,
1710; Swift’s first paper in the Examiner, on the second of the
following month.

Even thus, it could scarcely be hoped that the former cor-
diality could long subsist between the parties; since it was im-
possible that Addison should either fail to perceive from what
motives the disappointed churchman had turned round upon his
former party and patrons, or to reprobate the temper and spirit
in which he had done so. They strove however still to remain
friends, and we have the means of learning to what degree they
succeeded.

Swift, during his residence in London at this. period, addressed
to his unhappy Stella that curious journal which gives us so
clear an insight into the peculiarities of his very extraordinary,
and certainly by no means engaging character,—his pride and
self-consequence, his ambition, his minute attention to expense, and
other petty personal objects, his dexterity in serving his own ends
with the greater part of his acquaintance, his zealous patronage
of some favorite dependents, and his hearty affection for a very
few friends. In the last number, Addison held one of the highest
places. His name occurs oftener than almost any other in the
journal, and by bringing into one view the passages in which
mention is made of him, we gain a more intimate knowledge of
his manners and habits during this period of his life, and of the
society which he frequented while in London, than is elsewhere
to be obtained.

Journal to Stella. October 12. 1710. I dined to-day with
Dr. Garth and Mr. Addison at the Devil tavern. by Temple Bar,
and Garth treated. .... . Mr. Addison’s election has passed
easyand undisputed; and I believe if he had a mind to be

JOSEPH ADDISON. 169

PARR AR MAAR enn nes.

chosen king he would hardly be refused. 19. I am come home
from dining in the city with Mr. Addison at a merchant’s. 20.
spent the evening with Wortley Montagu and Mr. Addison
over a bottle of Irish wine. 22. I was this morning with Mr.
Lewis the under secretary to Lord Dartmouth ... . . contriv-
ing to keep Steele in his office of stamped paper, he has lost his:
place of gazetteer, 300/. a year, for writing against Mr. Harley
eile tat i etic but I had a hint given me that I might save him the
other employment, and leave was given me to clear matters with
Steele: Well, I dined with Sir Mathew Dudley, and in the eve-
ning went to sit with Mr. Addison, and offer the matter at dis-
tance to him as the discreeter person; but I found party had. so
possessed him that he talked as if he suspected me, and would
not fall in with anything I said. SoI stopped short in my over-
ture, and we parted very dryly, and I shall say nothing to Steele,
. and let them do as they will. ..... Is not this vexatious ?
'.... . IT endeavoured to act in the most exact points of honour
and conscience, and my nearest friends will not understand it so.
25. I dined to-day with Mr. Addison and Steele, and a sister of
_ Mr.,Addison’s who is married to one Mr. Sartre, a French pre-
bendary of Westminster, who has a delicious house and garden;
yet I thought it was a sort of monastic life in those cloisters....
. Addison’s sister is a sort of a wit, very like him. Iam not fond
of her. 28. Garth and Addison and I dined to-day at a hedge
tavern; then I wentto Mr. Harley. 29. Mr. Addison and Idined ,
to-day with Lord Mountjoy. 31. I dined with Mr. Addison and
Dick Stuart, Lord Mountjoy’s brother; a treat of Addison’s.
They were half fuddled, but not I: for I. mixed water with my
wine, and left them together between nine and ten. November
16. I dined in the city to-day with Mr. Manley, who invited Mr.
Addison and me and some other friends to his lodging, and enter-
tained us very handsomely. I returned with Mr. Addison, and
loitered till nine in the coflee house, where I am hardly known
by going so Seldom...... Mr. Addison and I meet a little sel-
domer than formerly, although we are still at bottom as good
friends as ever; but we differ a little about party.”
Under the date of December 15, Swift gives a detailed account
of Mr. Harley’s having been induced by him to appoint Steele a
time to wait on him, and Steele’s failing to come, and in his vexa-
tion, he accuses Addison of having hindered it, « out of mere spite,
being grated to the soul to think he should ever want my help to
save his friend. Yet,’ he adds, “ now he is soliciting me to make
another of his friends Secretary at Geneva, and I’ll do it if I can;

170 THE LIFE OF
it is poor pastoral Philips.”” There is evidently the aap a
of an angry man in supposing, that while Addison was willing to
seek favors for another friend through the interest of Swift with’
the ministers, he should “ out of mere spite” prevent Steele from
availing himself of the same interest. The truth was, that Steele
went on his own grounds. nr

The breach, for the present, went on widening. In December
Swift writes to Stella: «Mr. Addison and I are as different as
black and white, and I believe our friendship will go off by this
d business of party. He cannot bear seeing me fall in so
with the ministry: but I love him still as much as ever, though
we seldom meet.” Again: “I called at the coffee house, where
I had not been in a week, and talked coldly awhile with Mr. Ad-
dison ; all our friendship and dearness are off; we are civil ac-
quaintance, talk words of course, of when we shall meet, and
that’s all: Is it not odd? But I think he has used me ill, and I
have us’d him too well, at Jeast his friend Steele.’’

With regard to Addison, however, though not Steele, we find
his anger soon subsiding, for thus the journal of the new year
commences:

January 2. 1710--1. At six went to Darteneuf’s house to drink
punch with him and Mr. Addison and little Harrison, a young
poet whose fortune Iam making ..... Steele’s last Tatler came
out to-day ..... He never told Mr. Addison of it, who was sur-
prised as much as I; but to say truth it was time, for he grew
cruel dull and dry.

February 4. I went to Mr. Addison’s and dined with him at his
lodgings. I had not seen him these three weeks. Weare grown
common acquaintance, yet what have I. not done for his friend
Steele? Harrison, whom Mr. Addison recommended to me, I have
introduced to the secretary of state, who has promised me to
take care of him; and I have represented Addison himself so to
the ministry, that they think and talk in his favor, though they
hated him before.—Well, he is now in my debt, and there’s an
end; and I never had the least obligation to him, and there’s
anotherend. March 6. [ have not seen Mr. Addison these three
weeks: all our friendship is over. March 16. Have you seen
the Spectators yet, a paper that comes out every day? It is written
by Mr. Steele, who seems to have gathered new life, and have a
new fund of wit; it is in the same nature as his Tatlers, and they
have all of them had something pretty. I believe Addison and
he club, I never see them, and I plainly told Mr. Harley and
Mr. St. John, ten days ago, before my lord keeper and my Lord

JOSEPH ADDISON. 171

Rivers, I had been foolish enough to spend my credit with them
in favor of Addison and Steele, but that I would engage and pro-
mise never to say a word in their behalf, having been so ill-used
for what I had already done. April 28. The Spectator is written
by Steele with Addison’s help ; ’tis often very pretty. Yesterday
it was made of a noble hint I gave him long ago for his Tatlers,
about an Indian supposed to write his travels into England. I re-
pent he ever had it. I intended to have written a book on that
subject. I believe he has spent it all in one paper, and all the
under hints there are mine too; but I never see him or Addison.*
April 29. I never go to a coffee house; you hear no more of Ad-
dison, Steele, Henley..... Lord Somers, Lord Halifax &c. I
think I have altered for the better. June 26. Mr. Addison and I
have at last met again. I dined with him and Steele to day at
young Jacob Tonson’s..... Mr. Addison and I talked as usual,
and as if we had seen one another yesterday ; and Steele and I were
very easy, though I writ him a bitter letter in answer to one of his,
where he desired me to recommend a friend of his to lord trea-
surer. September 14. This evening I met Addison and pastoral
Philips in the Park, and supped with them at Addison’s lodg-
ings. We were very good company, and I yet know no man half
so agreeable to me as he is. I sat with them till twelve.”

The Tatler was indeed dropped by Steele, as Swift relates,
without the knowledge of Addison, not however because “ he grew
eruel dry,” but for more cogent reasons. He had rendered it too
much of a vehicle for his opposition-politics; and after being de-
prived of the post of gazetteer for an attack on Mr. Harley con-
tained in one of the numbers, he had come to a kind of treaty with
the minister, in virtue of which he was to keep his place in the
stamp office as long as he should remain neutral in politics. When
he could no longer be satisfied to do so, he resigned his office in a
letter to Harley. Steele therefore always denied that Swift had
any merit in preserving him from dismissal; and when provoked
by the furious assaults of the Examiner, still, as he well knew,
secretly controlled, though no longer openly edited by Swift, he
told him in print that the ministers made a fool of him, if they
pretended to have spared him at his intercession. ‘This appears
to have been so near the truth, that the reverend lampooner never
forgave it. In these quarrels Addison was too wise to take any
part; but Steele’s compelled forbearance from political topics,

* Swift was here under a mistake. The-paper in question was not written by
Steele but Addison ; and the coincidence was probably accidental.

172 THE LIFE OF

ene

PARRA ALDI

contributed not a little both to the merit and success of the Spec-
tator, which appeared in the ensuing March. ;

Before ,entering on the fertile topic of this great work, it will
be desirable to present to the reader a few letters throwing light
on the private concerns and situation of him whose genius has
alone imparted to it the odor of immortality.

His early friendship with Wortley Montagu still subsisted in
its pristine vigor; and it is fortunately in our power to peruse
this part of their correspondence entire.*

MR. ADDISON TO MR. WORTLEY.

Dear sir—Being very well pleased with this day’s Spectator,
I cannot forbear sending you one of them, and desiring your
opinion of the story in it. When you have a son I shall be glad

to be his Leontine, as my circumstances will probably be like’

his. I have within this twelvemonth lost a place of 2000/. per
ann., an estate in the Indies of 14,000/., and what is worse than
all the rest, my mistress. Hear this and wonder at my. philoso-
phy. I find they are going to take away my Irish place from
me too: to which I must add that I have just resigned my
fellowship, and that stocks sink every day. If you have any
hints or subjects, pray send me up a paper full. I long to talk
an evening with you. I believe I shall not go for Ireland this
summer, and perhaps would pass a month with you, if I knew
where. Lady Bellasis is very much your humble servant.
Dick Steele and I often remember you.
I am dear sir, yours eternally.
July 21, 1711.

The beautiful story of Eudoxus and Leontine (Spectator No.
123) will be in the memory of many—it would once have been
said of all readers. It represents the benefit of educating the
heir to a large fortune under an accomplished tutor, (Leontine)
in the false opinion that being destitute of patrimony, his success

in the world must be the effect of his talents and application
alone.t

‘

* Addisoniana. —

+ This appears the fit place for discussing a circumstance of the life of Addi-
son which has been passed over by his earliest biographer in as complete
silence as his share in the education of Lord Warwick, and which has just been
made known to the present writer. It appears from documents handed down
in the family of Rushout, that Sir James, second baronet of this name who was

vs JOSEPH ADDISON. 173
a a a a a a T
Of the estate in “the Indies,” referred to also by Swift, no
other notice has been found; and concerning the mistress he
complains of having lost, nothing further has been discovered.

~~

MR. WORTLEY TO MR. ADDISON.
Wortley July 28.1711.

Notwithstanding your disappointments I had much rather be
in your circumstances than my own. The strength of your con-
stitution would make you happier than all who are not equal to
you in that; though it contributed nothing towards those other
advantages that place you in the first rank of men. Since my
fortune fell to me, I had reason to fancy I should be reduced to
a very small income. I immediately retrenched my expenses,
and lived for six months on 50/. as pleasantly as ever I did in my
life, and could have lived for less than half that sum. I often
entertained myself with the speech of Ofellus in the second
satire of the second book ; and still think no man of understand-
ing can be many days unhappy, if he does not want health. At
present, I take all the care I can to improve mine. This air is
as proper for that as any | know; and we are so remote from all
troublesome neighbours and great towns, that a man can think of
nothing Jong but country entertainments or his books; and, if you
would change the course of your thoughts, you will scarce fail of

5

born in 1676 and died in 1705, was for some time under the tuition of Addison,
and probably at Oxford. This connection, it is believed, was the commence-
ment of a friendship between him and John, younger brother of Sir James, who
on the death of his nephew in 1711 succeeded to the baronetcy, subsequently
became distinguished in public life and was created Lord Northwick, being the
grandfather of the present respected peer. It is further stated to have been
through the interest of Sir John Rushout, who was lord of the manor of Malms-
bury and one of its representatives in the parliaments of 1710 713 and 714, that
Addison occupied that seat for the borough during the same period, which he
has hitherto been supposed to have owed entirely to Lord Wharton, The two
accounts may perhaps be reconciled, by supposing that his lordship, who cer-
tainly had a strong interest in Malmsbury, may have contributed his efforts to
bring in a member for the parliament of 1709, when the Rushout property was
held by a minor, while in the subsequent ones, Addison may have owed his suc-
cess solely to the support of Sir John, his colleague. Addison was a frequent
guest, it appears, at Northwick Park during all this period, and an authentic
token of his intimacy with its master still subsists in the admirable original por-
trait of him by Kneller preserved there, together with the portraits of Sir John
Rushout himself and his nephew the first Lord Sandys; painted and signed by
the same artist at the same date. The circumstance is a pleasing one, as indi-
cative of the respect and affection inspired by Addison in the character of an
instructor; and is very probable that among his correspondents or companions
while on his travels, mostly persons of rank and consequence, other Oxford

pupils might be discovered.

174 THE LIFE OF

effecting it here. Iam in some fear I shall be forced to town for
four or five days, and then we may come down together. If I
stay I shall let you know it in a week or ten days, and hope to
see you very soon. }

You was never in possession of anything you lose but your.

places, and those you could not call your own. After I had read
what you say about them, I could not take pleasure in the Spec-
tator you sent, but thought it a very good one. In two months, or
a little more, I think I must go the Newcastle journey. You told
me you should like it; if you do not, perhaps we may contrive
how you may pass your time here. I am not sure we shall easily
have leave to lodge out of this house, but we may eat in the woods
every day if you like it, and nobody here will expect any sort of
ceremony.

The chief interest of the following letter, besides the anxious
desire it evinces to secure the society of a friend justly prized,
may be thought to consist in the curious plan of eiswrely traveling
which it traces out.

MR. WORTLEY TO MR. ADDISON.

Wortley, Aug. 25, 1711.

Dear sir—Hearing you are at the Bath, I am almost afraid you
have laid aside the thoughts of this country. If vou still intend to
be here, I wish I knew the time, that I might delay or hasten my
journey to Newcastle; which you please. I shall pass three
months more in the north, and would stay your own time, if you
come. I have now my choice of two or three pretty but small
places, besides this house, which perhaps you may like the least.
You are almost as near to this place as to London. I am afraid
you will not meet with an opportunity of cominginacoach. But
if you have not seen Worcester, Stafford, Nottingham and Chats-
worth, you may make your journey pleasant; and if you travel
but eighteen or twenty miles a day, you will get here almost in-
sensibly in five or six days, as you are taking the air, After you
are a little beyond Gloucester, you will find a gravelly soil, as
good in wet as in dry weather, which will not leave you till you
are within fifteen miles of home. I can have one here that writes
a better hand than your own secretary. But if you like him better,
he would be no trouble to any here, though you should desire to
live with my lord. But I must add to all this, that when the Bath

JOSEPH ADDISON. 175

wen

season is quite over, so late as in October, you will in all likeli-
hood have a better season for traveling than the summer. When
I have said this in hopes of drawing you hither, I cannot but wish
you may be as well where you are as I was once, and have no
desire of changing the place.

ated

MR. WORTLEY TO MR. ADDISON.

Wortley Oct. 8, 1711.

Dear sir—I intend to set out this week for Durham, and to re-
turn hither about three weeks hence; I can scarce hope you will
be for a long journey this season; but if you should like a country
life so well, I will stay here till January to attend you, and per-
haps longer. There is a house within two miles of this place,
which I am sure would please you as well as any in these parts.
I design to lodge you there for the advantage of shooting when I
come back from Durham; but if youshould notlike it, I can find an-
other. Lest this climate should not suit with you, I dare say nothing
in praise of it; unless you think I speak well of it in telling you
that I grow fat, and am very easy. It would however agree with
me much better if you were in it. My most humble service to
Mr. Steele; he knows I should have inserted him often had he
been at liberty to come.

MR. ADDISON TO MR. WORTLEY.
Oct. 13, 1711.

Dear Sir—I am very much obliged to you for your last kind
letter and invitation, which I heartily wish I could accept; but
you know I have put my hand to the plow, and have already been
absent from my work one entire month at the Bath. I hope you
will not think of staying in the country so long’ as you mention.
Sure it will be worth your while to hear the peace treated in the
House of Commons, and as you have seen mores hominum mul-
torum et urbes, 1 think you cannot have a better opportunity to
show yourself. If you will be my lodger, I’ll take a house in the
Square at Kensington, and furnish you a chamber; not forget-
ting a cook and other particulars. I send you enclosed a paper
of Abel Roper’s, which every body looks upon as authentic: we
talk of nothing but a peace. Iam heartily glad you have your
health, and question not but you would find the Kensington air
as good as the Wortley. Iam ever, with the greatest sincerity,
&e. ;

176 THE LIFE OF

MR. WORTLEY TO MR. ADDISON. “3
Newcastle, Nov. 11, 1711.

Dear Sir—Since I cannot have your company in the country I
shall leave it as soon as [ can without damage to my affairs. I
would have left this place early enough to meet you at Wortley,
had you given me notice of your coming. Now you do not, I in-
tend to continue here a fortnight longer; for I think it will be for
my advantage; if I stay a fortnight at Wortley, as ’ti8 like I may,
it will be near the middle of December before I get to Kensington,
when I am very glad to hear I may be your lodger, if you will not
be mine as I proposed. Should you like any other place out of
town better than Kensington, I desire you will choose it, and I
shall certainly be pleased with it.

The peace, I should think, will not be debated before Christmas;
when it is, I fancy it will be accepted [or] refused by a very great
majority, and the public would not suffer by the absence of all
our friends put together. If I am mistaken in this, I desire you
will let me know it. My opinion is, the nation must be ruined
by such a peace as is talked of; notwithstanding I should pay for
the war more than any man in the house whose fortune is not
above double to mine. ‘That we may bear up the better under
misfortunes, I hope you will be nice in the choice of a cook, and
other particulars.

In this plan of domestication with a friend in a village several
miles removed from the center of London, we find a fresh proof
how greatly Addison has been wronged by the accounts of Pope,
or Spence, which represent him, in the ordinary course of his
life, as spending all that remained of the day,—and at this period
it was the larger part,—after a studious morning, and often much
of the night also, in taverns and coffee houses, attended by a little
knot of obsequious and convivial associates. He was still lodged
at Kensington in the following year, perhaps led to this choice by
its nearness to Holland house ; and thus saw much of Swift, who
was his neighbor. ‘The Spectator seems to have been the plough
to which he had set his hand, and such was its great and imme-
diate success, that there can be no doubt of its having brought him
in considerable supplies.

In other respects, his melancholy anticipations concerning his
pecuniary affairs were far from being realized in their full extent.
His Irish place was preserved to him till he obtained permission

JOSEPH ADDISON. 177

to sell it, stocks probably rose again, and whatever became of his
Indian estate,—an estate in a West Indian Island probably,—it is
certain that before the conclusion of this year, he found himself
justified to that prudence which never forsook him, in making the
acquisition of the house and lands of Bilton, near Rugby, for the
sum of 10,000/.; his brother Gulston however assisting him, we
_ know not to what amount, in the purchase. That the political
services in which he was privately employed by the court of Han-
over, brought no accession at this time to his pecuniary resources,
we have certain proof in an article of his Memorial to George I.
which, from the order in which it stands, evidently relates to some
period between his secretaryship under Lord Wharton and the
end of the reign, and runs thus: “ That when Baron Groet was
Your Majesty’s Minister in these Kingdoms, Your Mem*. was
employed to meet and discourse with him upon such points as
might be thought conducive to y° Interest of y°* Protestant Suc-
cession, y* s* Baron Groet having proposed to my L*. H. this
method [as] y® best means to avoid giving any Umbrage to*.....
That at this time your Mem". was employed to draw a new Cre-
dential Letter from that excellent Princess y° late Electress Dow-
ager of Brunswick, with o". Instruments of y* same nature for
which he thought himself amply satisfied by y* Pleasure he took
in doing any thing which might promote Your Majesty’s cause.”

CHAPTER X.
1712 & 1713.

Remarks on the Spectator. Transactions and intercourse with Whiston, Clarke.
Berkley. Notice of Pope’s Essay on Criticism in the Spectator. Letter of
Steele to Pope. Of Pope to Addison. His patronage of Ambrose Philips.
Cato brought on the stage. Account of its reception by Tickell. By Cibber.
Error of Young. Pope’s opinion on it. Hughes applied to by Addison to
write a fifth act. Anxiety of the author. Pope’s account of its reception.
Literary remarks. Publication of the Tragedy. Complimentary poems pre-
fixed. Criticism of Dennis, who is chastised by Pope. Letters on this subject.
Further honors paid to Cato. Letter of Dr. Smalridge.

Tue Spectator exhibits in its full expansion that genius which
half disclosed itself in the Tatler. Several circumstances in the

* The MS. is here imperfect.
12

178 THE LIFE OF

py nc ne ee
plan itself and structure of the work invited its great contributor
to redoubled exertions: First, in consequence probably of some
direct stipulation, a much larger proportion of the contents was to
be supplied by himself, and the general tone of the work would
thus be raised as well by the matter excluded as by what would
find admission. Secondly, there was to be no mixture of the
ephemeral matter of a common newspaper; and what was highly
meritorious at a period when everything else was deeply infected
with the spirit of party, a resolution had been taken of avoiding
all allusions to the politics of the day, which was adhered to with
few exceptions to the end, although the general spirit is that of
liberty. But what was of the greatest avail, the mind of Addison
proved like the richest kind of mines; the more it was wrought,
the deeper the shafts were sunk, and the more various and more
precious, as well as the more abundant, the products became. If
in the Tatler he had given excellent specimens of his power of
humorous delineation, as in the proceedings of the Court of Honor,
and the political Upholsterer, in the Spectator, besides adding
largely to the number of his draughts, and varying them with
admirable fertility of invention, he produced in Sir Roger de Co-
verley a finished comic character which had no model in our
language, and which, in the delicacy of its touches, Fielding never
equaled. ‘That the first hint of this personage should have been
thrown out by Steele, in his account of the members of the Spec-
tator’s club, is a singular circumstance, but on the whole it detracts
little from the merit of Addison in his portion. It became under
his hands not only so superior, but so different a conception, that
even its original author,—to say nothing of several occasional
contributors who had the presumption to intrude upon it with their
clumsy inventions,—never touched but to disfigure and distort it.
No reader now regards as a part of the ¢rue history of Sir Roger
any but the incidents described by that immortal pen.

The Spectator is also enriched with several creations of his
imagination of a higher and more poetical nature. Those beau-
tiful allegories which so powerfully excite the fancy and exercise
the ingenuity. of the youthful, and from their elegance, more
especially of the female. reader,—while they impress upon the
heart, as by stealth, moral truths the most touching and sublime,
first appear in the Spectator. The two Tuns of J upiter, the
Mountain of Miseries, and the Vision of Mirza, are examples of
this kind. Other delightful fancy pieces of a comic, and some-
what satirical nature, such as the Freezing of Words, the Lover’s
Leap, and Shallum and Hilpah, adorn both works, but it is the

JOSEPH ADDISON. 179

~

Spectator which first exhibits Addison as a Critic, by his papers
on the Drama, on True and False Wit, on Paradise Lost, and on
the Pleasures of the Imagination; essays, from which it ought to be
regarded as no derogation, that they are popular in their character,
and better adapted, as it has been remarked, to form readers than
writers. ‘To form readers, was in fact a leading purpose of the
periodical paper in which they are found; and with respect to
writers, those of any merit have always formed themselves. —

In his Saturdays’ papers, he is found as the persuasive advo-
cate of the grand truths of religion, and of a cheerful and liberal
devotion; and these views are recommended to the reader by all
the elegance of his imagination, the suavity of his disposition, and
the richness of his style. ‘They are also adorned by several
hymns and sacred odes, which are among our best and most popu-
lar productions, in a kind which is shown to be a far more difficult
one than might have been supposed, by the frequent failures of
writers of undoubted merit in other kinds of poetical composition.

It is very observable, that amid all the sports, we might almost
say, vagaries, of his happy fancy, Addison scarcely ever entirely
loses sight of what he had doubtless come to regard as the great
vocation which in these papers he was called upon to exercise,—
that of Reformer of the Morals and Manners of Domestic life.
Yet so admirably skilled was he to sheathe his ridicule of follies
in good-temper and good-breeding, and to turn even serious re-
proof ‘to favor and to prettiness,’”’ that he perhaps alone among
reformers, had the satisfaction to see his suggestions widely
adopted, and productive of general benefit, and himself the while
neither persecuted nor maligned, but, ov the contrary, thanked,
admired and honored. How far these happy results might be
due to his prudent precaution in making the more docile half of
the species the principal objects of his censorial admonitions, is left
to the consideration of the sagacious reader.

We can scarcely conceive of more entire and perfect adaptation
to an end than that of the powers and qualifications of Addison to
the novel kind of writing in which he had engaged. It seemed
made for him, or he for it; and his success will probably ever
remain the despair of all imitators. His praises have been long
resounded, and by many voices. The charms of that wit and
humor, and that creative fancy, in which his genius, properly
speaking, may be said to consist, have been universally felt and
applauded; and justice has often been done to his extensive and
accurate knowledge of human nature, and the nice discrimination
with which he portrays the diversities of natural characters,and the

180 ' THE LIFE OF
influence of artificial tastes and manners. His fine taste and
excellent judgment in wit and poetry have likewise been fre-
quently celebrated ; but amid these more obvious and shining
excellences, sufficient attention has scarcely been given to the
number and variety of topics treated of in his papers, and the
range of thought, no less than the beauty of illustration which
they display. Let them be compared in this respect with the
lucubrations of any of his successors, and his superiority will
become strikingly manifest. But it is the simplicity and single-
ness of heart with which he utters his conceptions which most of
all marks them for the offspring of a spirit of the highest order.
Entirely exempt from the egotism and self-conceit of inferior
writers, he is never a mannerist; if he were, he would have been
found more imitable. There is indeed a pervading moral tone in
his writings, which is that of purity, mildness, candor and benevo-
fence. In his religious papers he loves to dwell on the beauty
and felicity of a life of virtue, and on the infinite benignity of
the Creator, and it is very observable how studiously in some of
the imaginative pieces where he has luxuriated in the images of
a future state of happiness, he has evaded all details concerning a
place of punishment.

Political subjects, we have observed, it was in his bond to avoid;
but he has many reprehensions of the injustice, untruthfulness
and malignity of party spirit, and it is with peculiar zeal that he
exposes its deformity when viewed as the inhabitant of a female
bosom. In fact, he professes it to be one great purpose of his
papers to afford to the public less irritating subjects of thought and
conversation.

The merit of Addison as a poetical critic is that of the restorer,
or first promulgator among ourselves, of a pure and correct taste ;
that taste of which good sense is the law, and Horace the ex-
pounder, We have seen him laboring, both by precept and
example, to banish from our serious poetry the impertinences of
Greek mythology, and compel our poets to draw from native
sources. In this he was in great measure successful, partly no
doubt by the aid of Pope, who, after his early pastorals, silently
laid aside these fopperies, and established his character as emi-
nently the poet of correctness and judgment. Another object
against which he aimed many and effective strokes, was that
fondness for concetts, or studied turns of thought, prevalent in
some entire schools of poetry, and with which many of our own
writers are deeply infected. In his masterly remarks on Ovid,
he reprehends the great leader of this corruption; in his papers

JOSEPH ADDISON. 181
on True and False Wit he may be said to have given it a death-
blow. Unfortunately, his zeal for pure taste, and his abhorrence
-of everything to which the epithet Gothic could by any license
of language be applied, has sometimes rendered him cold or un-
just to productions of real genius, whether in art or letters. Thus
we have seen him chiding his own involuntary admiration of the
_ magnificent Gothic cathedrals of Lombardy, on account of their
wanting the majestic simplicity of the antique; and in a similar
spirit we find him concurring in the sentence passed by the frigid
Boileau on the “tinsel’’ of Tasso, contrasted with the “pure gold”
of Virgil. It was indeed to be expected, that he who censured,
though reluctantly, Milton’s allegory of Sin and Death for going
out of that probability required in epic narrative, would want
toleration for the adventure of the enchanted wood in the Geru-
salemme Liberata ;—although it might be difficult to discover on
what equitable principle Virgil’s transformation of ships into
nymphs, or of Polydore into a tree, could be exempted from the
like note of reprobation. Perhaps however it was principally to
the occasional conceits of the Italian poet that the satire of Boileau
was intended to apply. It may further be observed, that there
are no traces in any part of the works of Addison of his having
ever turned his attention to the literature of modern Italy. In his
Travels not one of the great Italian writers is even named, and it
is not improbable that he knew Tasso only through the medium
of Fairfax’s translation.

In French literature he was evidently well versed, and in
several passages he has given liberal commendation to their
critics, dramatists, and general writers. At the same time he was
not averse to manifesting his distate for their national character
and manners; and he has enlivened his lucubrations as well as
his familiar letters, with various amusing traits of French vanity
and impertinence, copied from the life, as it offered itself to his
observation during his residence in that country.

With regard to his estimates of our own distinguished authors,
it may be with truth observed that by his frequent citations of
Locke, and the manner in which he showed the application of his
principles, he contributed almost as much to extend the popu-
larity of his philosophy, as of the poetry of Milton,—both of them
inestimable services to the highest interests of his fellow-country-
men! In one of his papers he had the courage to refer to Hobbes,
and quotes his account of laughter from the tract Of Human
Nature, with the remark that it is the best of his works. He
delights in making an occasion to evince his high esteem for

182 THE LIFE OF

Tillotson, discovers a sense of Shakspeare by no means universal
in his time, by styling him ‘inimitable,’ and praises Dryden
wherever he can safely do it,—as in observing upon his Ab-
salon and Achitophel,—but freely blames both the manners
and the morals of that school of dramatists in which he was con-
spicuous. In the rude but nervous simplicity of our old English
poets his sensibility enabled him to find a powerful charm; wit-
ness his eulogy on Chevy Chace, and his cordial mention of the
ballad of the Babes in the Wood.* In fact he could relish all
manners but the affected. ~~

The tone of unmitigated contempt and abhorrence in which
Addison constantly refers to the Free-thinkers of his time has
been regretted or censured by many of his warmest admirers.
Since even that “ Representation of the state of Religion,’ which
Atterbury drew up in 1711 for the two houses of Convocation,
but which they rejected for its hostility to all idea of toleration, and
its violent spirit and exaggerated statements, contains no com-
plaint of the circulation of any one athetstical work, we must
hope it to have been in ignorance that the authors of the Tatler
and Spectator seem to involve in a general charge of atheism
writers all of whom were theists, and many very sincere Chris-
tians, though not according to the received system. Yet a dread
of the mischief of discussions tending to unsettle belief, may have
tempted them, like many others, to some wilful misstatements or
unfair inferences. The broad principle was as yet scarcely re-
cognized, that all persons having equally the natural power, and
by consequence, having equally the natural right, to think and to
express their thoughts, no other weapon can justly be employed
against the propagators of whatever opinions, than fair argument;
which, wielded in the cause of truth, must surely be in the end
victorious. Addison however has not gone so far in his papers
as some of his coadjutors, and it is a little remarkable, that in his

ee SSSSESSSSSESEEIEaEaEEEEIEEaE—aE—_E I

* This part of his literary character is further illustrated by the following ex-
tract :—

“This poem, [the Hours, by the Earl of Stirling] says Mr. Coxeter, in his
MS. notes, was reprinted in 1720, by A. Johnston, who in his preface says, that
he had the honor of transmitting the author’s works to the great Mr. Addison
for the perusal of them, and he was pleased to signify his approbation in these
candid terms, That he had read them with the greatest satisfaction, and was
pleased to give itas his judgment, that the beauties of our ancient English poets
are too slightly passed over by the modern writers, who, out of a peculiar sin-
gularity, had rather take pains to find fault, than endeavor to excel.??

From ‘ The Lives of the Poets, by Mr. Cibber.”
{alias Robert Sheils] London, 1753. 12° . Vol. i. p. 319.

JOSEPH ADDISON. ; 183

personal capacity no one could evince less repugnance, or less
scruple, at entering into very friendly and very confidential rela-
tions with known unbelievers or stigmatized heretics, than he:
Witness his acceptance of the patronage of the scoffer Wharton,
—his intimacy with Garth, who, when on his death-bed, actually
sent to him, it is said, to ask whether Christianity was true,—his
patronage of Whiston, and his open demonstrations of respect
both for Thomas Burnet and for the Arian Clarke! In fact, such
was at this time the state of opinion, that no man engaged in pub-
lic life, and mixing freely with the wits, philosophers and politi-
cians of the first London society, could avoid continual intercourse
with avowed deserters from the religion of their country.

The subject of Addison’s qualifications and characteristics as a
prose writer must not be closed without some distinct notice of
what has been so frequently the topic both of vague eulogium and
critical analysis, his luminous and beautiful style. When he began
his career, few examples were to be found in the English tongue
of that middle tone of composition suited to essays for general
reading. Cowley, Dryden, and Sir William Temple, are all the
names that readily occur. Dryden declared to Congreve that he
owed his own prose style,—much the best of these,—to the fre-
quent perusal of the sermons of Tillotson, and although we have
not exactly this avowal from Addison, it was probably in great
measure his case likewise. There is a tradition that he regarded
these excellent discourses as the highest authority for language ;
and Dr. Johnson informs us that there had been sent to him a set
of examples of the use of words drawn from Tillotson by Addison,
who had once projected an English dictionary. This prelate was
perhaps the first of our great preachers whose diction was suffi-
ciently free from Latinisms and scholastic terms to serve as a gene-
ral model, and so pure was his taste, that even now the learner in
the art of composition could scarcely draw from a better or more
authentic source than his “ well of English undefiled.”

Addison’s style is characterized by Dr. Johnson in an elaborate
passage, too well known for quotation, in which he gives large
praise, though pretty evidently without corresponding sentiments
of admiration. In one point however he has, inadvertently no
doubt, defrauded his author of his just meed of public gratitude,
by omitting to commemorate Addison as an eminent reformer of
the English tongue ata period of its lowest declension, when
common speech and all familiar writing were overrun with
cant phrases, ridiculous contractions, and other gross barbarisms
disgraceful to a lettered people. The critic has also failed to

184 THE LIFE OF

III TL ELT
point out, what indeed it may be questioned if he felt or appre-
ciated, the poetical, in contradistinction to the rhetorical charac-
ter, which lends enchantment to the eloquence of this delicious
writer.

Since the time of Dr. Johnson, Addison’s style has once been
characterized partly in contrast to his own, with such clearness
and elegance of discrimination, and such power and felicity of
language, as to leave nothing to his biographer but to transcribe
the passage.

“The style of Addison is pure and clear, rather diffuse than
concentrated, and ornamented to the highest degree consistent
with good taste. But this ornament consists in the splendor of
imagery, not in the ordonnance of words; his readers will seek
in vain for those sonorous cadences with which the public ear
has been familiarized since the writings of Dr. Johnson. They
will find no stately magnificence of phrase, no trials of sentences
artfully balanced, so as to form a sweep of harmony at the close of
a period.

‘“‘His words are genuine English ; he deals little in inversions,
and often allows himself to conclude negligently with a trivial
word. The fastidious ear may occasionally be offended with some
colloquial phrases, and some expressions which would not now,
perhaps, be deemed perfectly accurate, the remains of barbarisms
which he more than any one had labored to banish from good
writing; but the best judges have doubted, whether our language
has not lost more than it has gained since his time. An idiomatic
style gives a truth and spirit to a composition, that is but ill com-
pensated by an elaborate pomp, which sets written composition at
too great a. distance from speech, for which it is only the substi-
Dube tae ae

In the forty years which have elapsed since these sentences
were written, it is gratifying to think how much ground the school
of Addison has regained upon that of Dr. Johnson.

While the fame of Addison was advancing to maturity by a
secret growth,—for his share in the Spectator was not yet avowed,
though pretty widely known or suspected,—it is highly gratifying
to trace him in his various intercourses with the men of letters
and science his cotemporaries, which appear to have been uni-
formly of a liberal and friendly character.

William Whiston, a name become almost proverbial for a

* Selections from the Spectator, Tatler, Guardian and Freeholder: with a
preliminary Essay by Anna Letitia Barbauld. 3 vols. 8vo. London, 1804.

oe a

JOSEPH ADDISON. 185
downright honesty and sincerity deaf to all the cautions of worldly
prudence,—for a childlike simplicity in the ways of men, com-
bined with clear intuition into the depths of abstruse science,—
had about this time suffered expulsion from the university of
Cambridge, and deprivation not only of his catechetical lectureship,
but of the mathematical professorship in which Newton had ap-
pointed him his successor, on a charge of heresy. Being thus
stripped of all his sources of emolument, he had repaired to Lon-
don at once to publish what he regarded as the grievances of his
case, and to seek some means of subsistence for his family. It is
not probable that he should have been previously known to Ad-
dison otherwise than by character, but he, honoring in him, nei-
ther, it is probable the Arian nor the enthusiastic champion of the
genuineness of the Apostolical Constitutions, but the man who
was ready to sacrifice all for conscience’ sake, scrupled not in
this emergency to stand forth openly as his patron.

Whiston in his Life of himself, makes grateful mention of his
kindness in the following terms. “Mr. Addison, my particular
friend, who with his friend Sir Richard Steele brought me, upon
my banishment from Cambridge, to have many astronomical lec-
tures at Button’s coffee-house, near Covent Garden, to the agree- ,
able entertainment of a good number of curious persons, and the
procuring me and my family some comfortable support under my
banishment.’”? The intercourse thus begun did not cease with
the occasion; the attachment of worthy Whiston followed his
benefactor, as we shall observe, even to his death-bed.

Dr. Clarke, who had already distinguished himself by the pub-
lication of those admirably reasoned sermons on the being and
attributes of a God, which Pope unworthily made the subject of
an ignorant and flippant sarcasm, published in 1712 an edition of
Cesar’s Commentaries which did him honor asa philologist. Ad-
dison, with a generous alacrity, seized the opportunity of thus com-
memorating the work and its editor in his 367th Spectator. “The
new edition which is given us of Cesar’s Commentaries, has
already been taken notice of in foreign Gazettes, and is a work
that does honor to the English press. It is no wonder that an
edition should be very correct which has passed through the hands
of one of the most accurate, learned and judicious writers this age
has produced.” It was probably about the same time that we
find him stimulating to controversy on a new and curious meta-
physical subject, two eminent disputants, of whom Clark was one.
Berkley, afterwards bishop of Cloyne, on the publication of his
“Principles of Human Knowledge,” had sent copies of the work

186 THE LIFE OF

| ET eer
both to Whiston and Clarke, perhaps by way of challenge. Whis-
ton frankly declared that he understood nothing of the matter, but
wished that Clarke would answer it. This task, however, had
not been undertaken by this able writer, when some years after,
Addison procured a personal conference between him and Berkley.
It ended unsatisfactorily, as disputations of this nature are wont to
do; Berkley complaining that his antagonist, though unable to
reply to his arguments, refused to own himself convinced:—a
dilemma, in fact, to which the Berkeleian system of immaterialism
has often reduced the most able and unprejudiced inquirers. In
the mental constitution of Addison everything turned: to nourish-
ment for the fancy, and it is probably to the hypothesis of Berkley
that we owe the beautiful tale of Maraton and Yaratilda, which
transports us into the world of spirits and empty shades.

Pope’s Essay on Criticism, published in 1711, was made the
topic of a Spectator, (No. 253,) worthy of our particular notice as
the immediate occasion of an acquaintance which Addison had too
much reason, in the sequel, to number with the chief infelicities of
his life. This paper opens with the observation, that nothing
more denotes a great mind than the abhorrence of envy and de-
- traction, and that this passion reigns more among bad poets than
among any other set of men. After a beautiful passage commemo-
rating the good understanding in which “the greatest wits ever
produced in one age,’’—those of the reign of Augustus,—lived
together, and the generosity with which they celebrated one an-
other, an unfavorable comparison is thus drawn. ‘In our country
a man seldom sets up for a poet without attacking the reputation
of all his brothers in the art. The ignorance of the moderns, the
scribblers of the age, the decay of poetry, are the topics of detrac-
tion with which he makes his entrance into the world. ....I1
am sorry to find that an author whois very justly esteemed among
the best judges, has admitted some strokes of this nature into a
very fine poem, I mean the Art of Criticism, which was published
some months since, and is a master-piece in its kind.’ After this
exordium several remarks succeed, all of a laudatory kind, and
some of the more remarkable lines where the sound is designed
to make an echo to the sense, are quoted. On the whole, the
notice deserves to be regarded as a partial one; for doubtless the
sagacity of Addison cannot have failed to perceive in this very
juvenile performance, a multitude of errors, and even absurdities,
which his candor, and the indications afforded by this very piece
of a genius from the ripeness of which immortal fruits might be
anticipated, withheld him from even hinting to the world. The

JOSEPH ADDISON. 187
Ce eee EO ET TT eee
youthful poet immediately paid his acknowledgments for this act
of generosity to Steele, with whom he was already acquainted,
having submitted his Messiah to his criticism, after which the
piece had been published in the Spectator. Steele returned him
an answer in the following terms:

Dear Sir—I have received your very kind letter. That part
of it which is grounded upon your belief that I have much affec-
tion and friendship for you, I receive with great pleasure. That
which acknowledges the honor done to your “Essay,” I have no
pretence to; it was written by one whom I will make you ac-
quainted with, which is the best return I can make to you for
your favor to, sir, &c.*

This intimation gave occasion to a very respectful letter from
Pope to Addison, in which it will be seen that he kisses the
rod of the critic, and even promises, on a second edition, to ex-
punge such strokes of satire against cotemporaries as he may be
pleased to point out. We still find, however, in the edition of the
Essay which received the author’s last corrections, some con-
temptuous expressions pointed at Dennis, which were the com-
mencement of the long and savage hostilities waged between Pope
and this critic, and of Pope’s share in which, Addison on a later
occasion marked his strong disapprobation.

TO MR. ADDISON,

Sir—I have past part of this Xmas with some honest Country
Gentlemen, who have Wit enough to be good-natured but no man-
ner of Relish for Criticism or polite writing, as you may easily con-
clude when I tell you they never read the Spectator. This was
the Reason I did not see that of y® 28" till yesterday at my Return
home, wherein tho’ it be y® highest satisfaction to find myself
commended by a Person whom all y® world commends, yet l am
not more obliged to you for that, than for your Candour and Frank-
ness in acquainting me with y® Errour I have been guilty of in
speaking too freely of my Brother-Moderns. ‘Tis indeed y* com-
mon method of all counterfeits in Wit, as well as in Physic, to
begin with warning us of others’ Cheats, in order to make y*® more
Way for their own. But if ever this Essay be thought worth a
second edition, I shall be very glad to strike out all such strokes
which you shall be so kind as to point out to me: J shall really be

er
ee

* Steele’s Correspondence, I. 234.

188 THE LIFE OF
proud of being corrected; for I believe ’tis with y* Errors of y°
Mind, as with y® Weeds of a Field, w" if they are consumed upon
y° Place, enrich and improve it more, than if none had ever grown
there. Some of y® Faults of that book, I myself have found, and
more (I am confident) others have, enough at least to have made
me very humble, had not you given this public approbation of it,
which I can look upon only as y° effect of that Benevolence you
have ever been so ready to show to any, who but make it their
endeavour to do well. But as a little Rain revives a flower, which
too much overcharges and depresses, so moderate praise encou-
rages a young writer, but a great deal may injure him; and you
have been so lavish in this Point, that I almost hope (not to call
in Question your Judgment in y* Piece,) that twas some particular
partial Inclination to y° Author which carried you so far. This ©
would please me more than I can express, for I should in good
earnest be fonder of your Friendship than the World’s applause.
I might hope too to deserve it better, since a man may more easily
answer for his own sincerity, than his own Wit. And if y* highest
Esteem built on y*® justest ground in y* World, together with
Gratitude for an obligation so unexpectedly conferred, can oblige
a Man to be ever your’s, I beg you to believe no one is more so
than Sir, your most Faithful and ob*. humble servant

A. Porg.*

When “pastoral Philips” produced in 1712 his tragedy of the
Distressed Mother, founded on the Andromache of Racine, but
adapted with much skill and good taste to the English stage, it
was supplied with a humorous epilogue ascribed to Budgell, in
the concluding paper of the 7th volume of the Spectator, but of
which the following story was traditional in the family of Tonson.
That it was in fact Addison’s, and was actually printed with his
name; but that he came early in the morning, before the copies
were taken off, and ordered it to be given to Budgell, that it
might add weight to the solicitations he was then making to
procure him a place. ‘The truth of the anecdote seems to be
vouched by the behavior of Budgell himself, who openly bestowed
on the piece even extravagant praises, and loudly called for its
repetition at the theatre. Such a method of assisting two friends
at once does credit, it must be owned, to the ingenuity, if not the
ingenuousness of its contriver. But, not content with this secret
service to Philips, though enforced by the zealous and indeed —

III IDL PAAR

* Tickell papers. The letter has never before appeared in print.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 189
somewhat fulsome panegyric of the good-natured Steele in the
290th Spectator, Addison further availed himself of the happy
thought of carrying his own Sir Roger to the representation of
the Distressed Mother; and out of the innocent remarks of the
rustic baronet, to which, says he, “I was very attentive, because
I looked upon them as a piece of natural criticism,’ he has eon-
structed a very elegant and complimentary account of the tragedy.
From this Spectator, it may be remarked by the way, that Field-
ing has taken more than the hint of his relation of the behavior
of Partridge at the play, and it must be owned that ignorance so
gross appears somewhat more consistent in the person of a country
barber than of a gentleman of family and fortune;—but, to cast
ridicule on the country party, then strongly Tory, if not Jacobite,
was doubtless a secret purpose of the author, even in his favorite
character of Sir Roger.

It was doubtless to a constant readiness to perform the offices
of social kindness, not unaided by the refined politeness and the
_ talent for elegant compliment, of which his letters afford so many

examples, that Addison owed his rare exemption from the usual
penalty of distinguished and successful merit. Detraction, during
his lifetime, rarely approached him, and not only was he crowned
by the general suffrage, but rival wits made it their glory to be
known for his friends and eulogists. The most signal display of
the public sentiment in his favor, was made on occasion of the
performance of his tragedy of Cato in April 1713.

Concerning the production and reception of this celebrated piece

many particulars have been transmitted to us, some on better,
some on worse authority; the account of Tickell, which claims
our full reliance, is as follows: “The tragedy of Cato appeared
in public in the year 1713, when the greatest part of the last
act was added by the author to the foregoing, which he had kept
by him for many years. He took up a design of writing a play
upon this subject when he was very young at the university,
and even attempted something in it there, though not a line as
it now stands. The work was performed by him in his travels,
and retouched in England, without any formed resolution of bring-
ing it upon the stage, till his friends of the first quality and dis-
tinction prevailed with him to put the last finishing to it, at a time
when they thought the doctrine of liberty very seasonable. It is
in everybody’s memory, with what applause it was received by
the public; that the first run of it lasted for a month ; and then
stopped only because one of the performers became incapable of
acting a principal part. ‘The author received a message, that the

190 THE LIFE OF

Queen would be pleased to have it dedicated to her: but as he
had designed that compliment elsewhere, he found himself obliged
by his duty onthe one side, and his honor onthe other, to send it into
the world without a dedication. The fame of this tragedy soon
spread through Europe, and it has not only been translated, but
acted in most of the languages of Christendom.”

The Duchess of Marlborough is understood to have been the
person for whom the dedication was designed, and the author
doubtless took the ground of party, as well as gentlemanly honor,
in declining to mortify the heroine of the Whigs in her state of
disfavor by compliance with the suggested wish of royalty.

Colley Cibber in his Apology says, that so long before as 1703,
he had the pleasure of reading the four first acts, all that were
then written, privately with Steele, who told him that « whatever
spirit Mr. Addison had shown in his writing it, he doubted that
he would never have courage enough to Jet his Cato stand the
censure of an English audience; that it had only been the amuse-
ment of his Jeisure hours in Italy, and was never intended for the
stage.” He agrees with Tickell in ascribing the completion of
the play to the entreaties of Addison’s friends, at the latter end of
Queen Anne’s reign, when the administration had passed into
other hands, and they “thought it a proper time to animate the
public with the sentiments of Cato.’? The piece was represented,
at Drury Lane, of which theatre, Cibber was at this time a joint
patentee and manager, and, as he attests, to constantly crowded
houses. The celebrated Booth, then a young actor, “made his
fortune,’ by playing the part of Cato. It was afterwards per-
formed by the same company at various provincial capitals, and
at Oxford; and here, says the manager, ‘on our first day of act-
ing it, our house was in a manner invested, and entrance de-
manded by twelve o’clock at noon; and before one, it was not
wide enough for many, who came too late for their places. The
same crowds continued for three days together, an uncommon cu-
riosity in that place; and the death of Cato triumphed over the
injuries of Cesar everywhere.” Cibber’s account supplies one’
further circumstance highly honorable to the liberality of Addison.
As the author had made us a present of whatever profits he
might have claimed from it, we thought ourselves obliged to spare
no cost in the proper decorations of it.”’

Dr. Young, apparently no careful relater of matters of fact,
speaks of this tragedy as having been sent to Dryden to recommend
it to the theatre, and returned by him, « with many commenda-
tions, but with his opinion that on the stage it would not meet

——- oe

JOSEPH ADDISON. 19%

with its deserved success.” That Dryden had seen some early
dramatic attempt of Addison’s he has indeed himself informed us,
but clearly not that Cato which the world admires. Pope, to
whom its author imparted it, expressed the same judgment of its
unfitness for the stage erroneously ascribed to Dryden; to which
Addison replied, that it was his own opinion, but that his consent
to the performance had now been extorted by friends who thought
differently. That the genuine sentiment of the author was what
is here expressed, we may fairly conclude from his extraordinary
reluctance to set himself tothe task of supplying the indispensable
fifth act which was still deficient. Mr. Maynwaring has left it
upon record, that he actually desired Mr. Hughes to add a fifth
act. This gentleman, afterwards the author of the Siege of
_ Damascus, but at this time young and little known, with a some-
what presumptuous readiness, took him at his word, and in a few
days brought him a portion of his intended continuation, but
found that he had himself been at work, and had achieved about
half the act. ‘I was told this,’’ says Mr. Maynwaring, “by Mr.
Hughes, and [ tell it to show that it was not for the love scenes
that Mr. Addison consented to have his tragedy acted, but to sup-
port the old Roman and English public spirit among his country-
men.” ‘Taken in connection with these circumstances we may
well put faith in Dr. Johnson’s anecdote, that while it continued
to be performed night after night without intermission, “ the
author, as Mrs. Porter related, wandered through the whole ex-
hibition behind the scenes with restless and unappeasable solici-
tude.” He was now too rich in the fruits of literary enterprise
to hazard himself willingly on a forlorn hope; and such the re-
marks of his literary friends must have led him to regard the act
of giving his tragedy to the stage. But every circumstance was
in his favor. The Whig leaders who had urged him to make
this noble protest in behalf of the spirit of freedom at a time of
just alarm from the machinations of a jacobite party in the very
cabinet ;—or, in the language of Dr. Johnson, “those who affected
to think liberty in danger, and had affected likewise to think that
a stage play might preserve it,’’ were loud in their applause of
every glowing sentiment. The tories, not choosing to take to
themselves the implied satire, seconded these applauses with
equal vehemence, if not equal sincerity. For the first night,
Steele says that he had undertaken to pack an audience,—ap pa-
rently a very needless precaution,—and that nothing might be
wanting, Pope gave a prologue, of which it is little to say that

192 THE LIFE OF

it puts to shame all earlier performances in this kind, since it rises
to the moral sublime; and Garth wrote a humorous epilogue.

A passage in one of the published letters of Pope to Sir Wil-
liam Trumbull brings the scene before us, while it jntimates on
the part of the writer some distaste at being mixed up in a Whig
triumph, and no great pleasure in the success of the author, to
whom he professed friendship.

. . . .“ As to poetical affairs, 1am content at present to be a
bare looker-on, and from a practitioner turn an admirer, which is
(as the world goes) not very usual. Cato was not so much the
wonder of Rome im his days, as he is of Britain in ours; and
though all the foolish industry possible has been used to make it
thought a party play, yet what the author once said of another
may the most properly in the world be applied to him on this
occasion,

‘¢ Envy itself is dumb, in wonder lost,

And factions strive who shall applaud him most.”
The numerous and violent claps of the whig party on the one
side of the theatre, were echoed back by the tories on the other ;
while the author sweated behind the scenes with concern to find
their applause proceeding more from the hand than the head.
This was the case too of the prologue writer, who was clapped into
a staunch whig at almost every two lines. I believe you have
heard, that after all the applauses of the opposite faction, my lord
Bolingbroke sent for Booth, who played Cato, into the box, between
one of the acts, and presented him with fifty guineas; in acknow-
ledgment (as he expressed it) for defending the cause of liberty
so well against a Perpetual Dictator.* The whigs are unwilling
to be distanced this way, and therefore design a present to the
same Cato very speedily; in the meantime they are getting ready
as good a sentence as the former on their side: so betwixt them it
is probable that Cato (as Dr. Garth express’d it) may have some-
thing to live upon after he dies.”

When this triumphant performance had been continued, as it
should seem, during a greater number of nights than any play
had before been suffered to run, the publication was of course
the next step. This ordeal, which has proved too severe for many

* The long sway of the Duke of Marlborough was here glanced at.*

* Mr. Macaulay suggests, that the allusion of Lord Bolingbroke was not to the “Jong
sway of the Duke of Marlborough,” but to “the attempt which Marlborough had made
to convert the Captain-Generalship into a patent office, to be held by himself for life.” He
adds, that the patent was stopped by Lord Cowper.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 193

of the best acting plays, had in it nothing formidable for Cato.
If the wise man of the Stoics, with his solemn dignity and im-
passive virtue, had been invested by the poet in his last tragic
scene with enough of human interest to engage the sympathies
of an audience, there could be little doubt of his conciliating
the admiration and esteem of the reader. In effect, the expe-
rience of more than a century has now shown, that although this

noble work may occasionally be restored to the stage with suc-

cess during some particular states of political feeling, and when
aided by the powers of an actor distinguished by the talent of im-
pressive declamation, and endowed with sufficient dignity of
figure and carriage fitly to impersonate the noble Roman, it is
scarcely to be reckoned in the ordinary list of stock plays; but so
long as English literature exists, it can scarcely lose its rank
among closet pieces. ‘Thus Dr. Johnson, after remarking with
much more than enough of severity, on the failure of all the sub-
ordinate characters strongly to attract affection or esteem, adds,
that «they are made the vehicles of such sentiments and such
expression, that there is scarcely a scene in the play which the
reader does not wish to impress upon his memory.’’ The emi-
nent applicability of the last remark is evinced by the extraor-
dinary number of quoted lines, with which Cato, even more than
the other poems of Addison, has enriched our language ; of this
number are the following:

** The woman who deliberates is lost.”?
s< Plant daggers in my heart.??

<©>Tis not in mortals to command success,

But we’ll do more, Sempronius, we’ll deserve it.’
*‘ The pale unripen’d beauties of the north.”
** Tis not a set of features, or complexion,
The tincture of a skin that I admire.”

‘¢ Painful pre-eminence.”

‘¢ Curse on his virtues, they’ve undone his country !”?

These and others of the fine thoughts and pointed expressions
with which the piece abounds, still circulate among us like cur-
rent coin, though often now passed, it may be feared, with little
thought or knowledge of the mint which issued them.

When Dr. Johnson remarks, that the success of Cato “has
introduced or confirmed among us the use of dialogue too decla-
matory, of unaffecting elegance and chill philosophy,” he over-
looks, or possibly was unskilled to explore, a more probable origin
of the faults which he indicates, and which he has himself ex-
emplified. These are found in Philips, Rowe, Hughes, and
other cotemporaries, to at least as great a degree as in Addison,

13

194 THE LIFE OF

in whom they are palliated, if not entirely justified, by the nature
of his subject; and they may surely be traced to imitation of
the masters of French tragedy, whose genius, like the ambition of
their monarch, had gone near to giving law to all Europe. With
respect to Philip’s Distressed Mother, this origin is unquestion-
able, and little less so with respect to Cato; since Addison always
expressed himself concerning Corneille and Racine with marked
esteem, and seems to have laid the plan and begun the execution
of his tragedy during his long sojourn at Blois, while he was
making the study of the French language his principal occupation.
In the conduct of his plot he has made considerable sacrifices to
a rigid observance of the unities of time and place, as laid down
by Aristotle, and it can scarcely be doubted that this restraint,
unknown to our earlier dramatists, was imposed upon him as an
indispensable law by the precepts and practice of the French
school of dramatic art.

That the tragedy of Cato does not appeal strongly to the
passions, may be frankly conceded; but whatever be said of its
“unaflecting elegance and chill philosophy,” it is at least free
from the error which Boileau so forcibly remarked to Addison
himself in the manner of Corneille. The speakers run neither
into description nor declamation unconnected with the business
of the scene, or unsuited to the persons or the occasion. Severe
correctness and good taste preside alike over the sentiments and
the diction,

The versification, though deficient in the richness and variety
of pause which charms in our elder dramatists, and like all
blank verse at this period, constructed with too much resem-
blance to the rhymed couplet, is yet easy and graceful; and cer-
tainly far preferable to that of Rowe, then the most popular tragic
writer.

In contemplation of Cato’s appearance from the press, the lite-
rary friends of Addison flocked round him, each bearing his tri-
bute of laudatory verse; an attention which occasioned him some
embarrassment, if we may judge from the following letter.

MR. ADDISON TO MR. HUGHES.

April 24. 1713,
Dear sir—This is to acquaint you that I am obliged to practise
a great piece of self-denial; In short, I must deprive my play of
the noble ornament you designed for it. My friends, who all of
them concur with me in admiring your beautiful copy of verses,

JOSEPH ADDISON. 195

are however of opinion that it will draw upon me an imputation

of vanity, and as my play has met with an unexpected reception,
I must take particular care not to aggravate the envy and ill-
nature that will rise on course upon me. Besides, to tell you
truly, I have received other poems upon the same occasion, and
one or two from persons of quality, who will never pardon me if
I do not give them a place at the same time that I print any other.

‘I know your good sense and friendship towards me will not let

you put a wrong interpretation upon this matter, and I am sure I
need not tell you with what sincerity and esteem, I am, sir
Your most obliged and most faithful servant.*

Hughes, though mortified doubtless at this second frustration of
his hopes of engrafting his own name on those of Addison and
Cato, expressed with a good grace his concurrence in the suggested
reasons against the publication of his lines. What occurred after-
wards to change the determination we do not learn, but the tra-
gedy appeared at last without any verses by a person of quality
prefixed, but accompanied by testimonials of merit from Steele,
Hughes, Young, Eusden, Tickell, Digby Cotes, and Ambrose
Philips. There were also some ‘Lines left with the printer by
an unknown hand,” of which Dr. Johnson says that they are the
best, but ‘will perhaps lose somewhat of their. praise when the
author is known to be Jeffreys.” Who was this author? is a
question which has frequently been asked, and many readers,
little exact in matters of chronology and acquainted with but one
Jeffreys, “damned to everlasting fame,” have conceived that the
unrighteous judge must be the person referred to. He however
had been more than twenty years in his grave, and the person
intended was George Jeffreys, son of a Northamptonshire gentle-
man and nephew of James Earl of Chandos, who was in 1701 a
fellow of Christchurch, Cambridge, and secretary to Dr. Harts-
tonge, Bishop of Derry, but afterwards resided chiefly under the
roof of two successive Dukes of Chandos, engaged in no profes-
sion, but devoting to literature a long life of leisure. He wrote
two tragedies, and gave translations from Horace, and of Vida on
chess; published by subscription in 1753 two quarto volumes of
Miscellanies in verse and prose, and died two years afterwards,
aged 77. Some of his literary correspondence is printed in
Hughes’s Letters. (2d. edit. 1773.) His writings appear to have
been feeble efforts, they had little success in his own time, and

ow

* Hughes’s Letters, I. 67.

196 THE LIFE OF
OOOO eee
are now forgotten; but it is difficult to conceive by what offence
a person apparently as innocuous as inconspicuous could have
drawn upon himself so labored an expression of Dr. Johnson’s
contempt.

The verses in question are happy in thought, and elegant in
expression, and it was an act of cruelty in the critic to pluck at the
single bay leaf with which the niggard Muse had deigned to crown
the homage of so persevering and devoted a suitor.

We have not the means of knowing whether Addison felt it as
any very serious interruption to the enjoyment of his well-earned
fame, that Dennis, emphatically surnamed the Critic, now thought
proper to make his Cato the object of a furious attack.

It is creditable neither to the taste nor the temper of Dr. John-
son, that he should have preserved this coarse and virulent diatribe
from merited oblivion by his large extracts. . A very brief notice
of it shall here suffice. ‘* Detraction,’’ said Burke, ‘is allied to
none of the virtues,” and as little affinity can it claim with any of
the higher powers of intellect. To demonstrate, of any poetical
creation whatever, that it wants in some respects the consistency
and probability of truth and nature, is a task as easy, as that of
fixing upon defects alone, and of aggravating and holding them
up to scorn by the employment. of vulgar and debasing expres-
sions, is odious and despicable. Neither of them will be the office
of any one on whom nature has bestowed that precious gift of
sensibility which is the prime, the indispensable requisite for
judging of all that appeals to the sense of the beautiful or sub-
lime.

Let every reader, jealous of the delicacy of his taste, or anxious
not to dry up in himself the sources of the purest and most exalted
pleasures, shun as his bane these wretched disenchanters, who
blast with their pestiferous breath the very roses of paradise.

Both the policy of the author and the dignity of the gentleman
required that such an attack should remain without direct notice,
and the mild temper of Addison enabled him without effort to
obey their dictates; but there was one who refused to be influ-
enced in this respect by his example, or guided by his wish.
Dennis had not permitted the unprovoked assault upon him b
Pope in his Essay on Criticism to go unpunished. He had taken
his revenge first by strictures on the Essay on Criticism, and
afterwards by remarks on the Rape of the Lock, still more fero-
cious, and written with a still denser insensibility to poetical beau-
ties than his remarks on Cato. Pope was now lying in wait for
a favorable opportunity of retaliation, and wishing to earn by the

JOSEPH ADDISON. 197

same effort the character of a formidable enemy and a zealous
friend, he grounded on Dennis’s strictures on Cato a burlesque
piece entitled, “Dr. Norris’s Account concerning the strange and
deplorable frenzy of John Dennis.” It was obviously however
no part of the real purpose of the author to defend the tragedy,
all the objections to which were left in their full force, while un-
measured reproach and contumely were cast upon the character,
the qualifications, and even the poverty of the critic; mingled
with scurrilities truly loathsome. Enchanted, as it should seem,
with his fair performance, Pope caused it to be immediately
imparted to Addison, whose sentiments respecting it were thus
conveyed through the printer.

t, MR. STEELE TO MR. LINTOT.
August 4. 1712.

Mr. Lintot—Mr. Addison desired me to tell you he wholly dis-
approves of the manner of treating Mr. Dennis in a little pam-
phlet by way of Dr. Norris’s Account. When he thinks fit to
take notice of Mr. Dennis’s objections to his writings, he will do
it in a way that Mr. Dennis shall have no just reason to complain
of: but when the papers above mentioned were communicated to
him, he said he could not either in honor or conscience be privy
to such a treatment, and was sorry to hear of it.* Iam sir &c.

This rebuke had not the effect of inducing Pope to suppress the
piece, but he wrote a handsome letter to Addison on the occasion,
which however has much of his genuine character and temper in
it, and runs thus:

* The objections of Dennis to his Cato were never answered by Addison in
any manner; but he may be thought to have designed a just reprehension of the
tone and spirit of the remarks of this fierce critic because unsuccessful dramatist,
in the 592"4 Spectator, where we find, among others, these keen strokes : I donot
indeed wonder that the actors should be such professed enemies to those among
our nation who are commonly known by the name of critics, since it is a rule
among these gentlemen to fall upon a play not because it is ill written, but be-
cause ittakes. Several of them lay it down as a maxim, that whatever dramatic
performance hasa long run, must of necessity be good for nothing ; as though the
first precept of poetry were not to please. Whether this rule holds good or not,
Lleave to the determination of those who are better judges than myself: If it
does, I am sure it tends very much to the honor of those gentlemen who have
established it; few of their pieces having been disgraced by a run of three days,
and most of them being so exquisitely written, that the town would never give
them more than one night’s hearing.

PPILP PLP III LLL LD LLL AD

PRP PPRAR ALL LLLP LPP PPP PPP PPP PPP

198 THE LIFE OF

RR SSSESESaESaEEaEaEEoEEoEoETEEoEyE™ET™TEE™e~eeeeeeEeEeee

MR. POPE TO MR. ADDISON.

Joly 20. 1713,

Tam more joy’d at your return than I should be at that of
the sun, so much as I wish for him this melancholy wet season ;
but ’tis his fate too, like yours, to be displeasing to owls and
obscure animals, who cannot bear his lustre. What put me
in mind of these night birds was John Dennis, whom I[ think
you are best revenged upon, as the sun was in’ the fable, upon
those bats and beastly birds above mentioned, only by shining
on. Iam so far from esteeming it any misfortune, that I con-
gratulate you upon having your share in that, which all the
great men and all the good men that ever lived have had their
part of, Envy and Calumny. ‘To be uncensured and to be ob-
scure, is the same thing. You may conclude from what I here
say, that ’twas never in my thoughts to have offered you my pen
in any direct reply to such a Critic, but only in some little raillery ;
not in defence of you, but in contempt of him. But indeed your
opinion that vis to be entirely neglected, would have been my
own had it been my own case; but I felt more warmth here than
I did when first I saw his book against myself, (tho’ indeed in
two minutes it made me heartily merry.) He has written against
every thing the world has approv’d these many years. I ap-
prehend but one danger from Dennis’s disliking our sense, that it
may make us think so very well of it, as to become proud and
conceited upon his disapprobation.

I must not here omit to do justice to Mr. Gray, whose zeal in
your concerns is worthy a friend and honorer of you. He writ
to me in the most pressing terms about it, though with that just
contempt of the Critic that he deserves. I think in these days
one honest man is obliged to acquaint another who are his friends ;
when so many mischievous insects are daily at work to make
people of merit suspicious of each other; that they may have the
satisfaction of seeing them looked upon no better than themselves.

Tam Your &c.

Before we quit the subject of Cato, it seems proper to quote
from Dr. Johnson an enumeration of the further honors which
it received. “ It was censured as a party play by a Scholar of
Oxford, and defended in a favorable examination by Dr. Sewel.
It was translated by Salvini into Italian, and acted at Florence ;
and by the jesuits of St. Omers into Latin, and played by their

JOSEPH ADDISON. 199

pupils.” A French version speedily appeared, and it may be
added that sooner or later it has been made to assume the dress of
almost every European language, not excepting the Russian. —
This subject may be closed with a letter from the worthy Dr.
Smalridge, dean of Carlisle and canon of Christ-church, Oxon,
referring to the representation of Cato at Oxford, and further
_ Interesting as affording proof of the intimate connection now sub-
sisting between Addison and the noble house of Warwick. There
had been a long university friendship between this divine, who soon
after became Bishop of Bristol, and Addison; who appears from
the beginning of the letter, to have ascribed some part of the merit
of his own Spectators to suggestions thrown out, or sentiments
imparted by his friend in the course of conversation. The dis-
tinguishing merit of Smalridge seems to have consisted in a can-
dor and suavity of disposition and an impartial benevolence which,
in the midst of the bitter contentions of factions, religious and
political, enabled him to retain the esteem and affection of all.
He was appointed by the university the official defender of Sach-
everel, yet extended his good offices to Whiston, and it was per-
haps this catholic spirit which Addison was conscious of having
imbibed from his society.

DR. SMALRIDGE TO MR. ADDISON,
Ch. Ch. Augt 24. 1713,

Dear S'—I sh" be guilty of the highest degree of vanity, if I
accepted as any ways due, those Complements you are pleas’d to
make me. I have often spoke of y* Spectators and your other
excellent performances in such astyle,as I sh" have been asham’d
to have us’d, had I been conscious, that y® least share of that ap-
plause belong’d to myself.

Mr. Fowkes is gone to Chester ; I have by letter told him when
y° Lady Warwick intends to be here, that he may be back again
to wait on her Ladyship. The Distance is great, & it will be a
favour to him not to be call’daway too quickly from his Relations.
But he will adjust his Motions to her Ladyship’s conveniency, &
will be at Oxford whenever she shall be pleas’d to direct. It will
be convenient that we sh" know whether my Lord brings any one
with him to attend Him. ’

I gave myself y® pleasure of seeing Cato acted, & heartily wish
all Discourses from y* Pulpit were. as instructive & edifying, as
pathetic & affecting, as that w" y* Audience was then entertained

200 THE LIFE OF

with from the Stage. Iam, Dear St Your most faithful & most
Humble Servant, GrorcE SMALRIDGE.*

CHAPTER XI.

1712 to 1715.

Quarrel of Pope with Addison. Preface to Tickell’s Iliad, and letters concern-
ing it.

Or all the topics of literary biography, the quarrels of authors
are the least instructive and the least agreeable. It is mortifying
to learn how little those master-spirits, whom we look up to with
feelings of reverence and gratitude as the moulders of our minds
and the lamps of our path, have sometimes known how to rule
their own spirits, or to shun the obvious errors and frailties of
ordinary mortals; and nothing but the paramount obligations of
truth and justice, which are never to be evaded, could compel
the present writer to enter upon a theme so painful. The life of
Addison, thanks to the amenity of his disposition and the mode-
ration of his conduct, offers but one incident of the kind, but his
difference with Pope has already engaged too much of the public
attention from the celebrity of the parties, and the serious results
to the reputation of both, tobe passed over without a careful in-
vestigation of its causes and circumstances. For this purpose it
is necessary to look a little backwards.

Addison’s remarks on the Essay on Criticism in the Spectator,
in which, with so just a sense of the characteristics of the writer,
he had blended high commendation of his genius with reprehen-
sion of his satirical propensity, have been already brought before
the reader, together with the circumstances of the personal ac-
quaintance to which they gave rise. Some months afterwards
appeared No, 523 of the same work, which opens thus: “I am
always highly delighted with the discovery of any rising genius
among my countrymen. For this reason [ have read over with
great pleasure the late Miscellany published by Mr. Pope, in
which there are many compositions of that ingenious gentleman.

ARRARARRARADADIRR BRIER DLP DR RRAL DLP LDP AR RA ARR AR

* Tickell papers.

_

JOSEPH ADDISON. 201

I have had a pleasure of the same kind in perusing a poem that
is just published on the Prospect of Peace, and which I hope will
meet with such a reward from its patrons as so noble a perform-
ance deserves. I was particularly pleased to find that the author
had not amused himself with fables out of the pagan theology,
and that when he hints at anything of this nature, he alludes to
it only as a fable.” “If,” proceeds the writer after some further
remarks on the subject, “any are of opinion that there is a
necessity of admitting these classical legends into our serious
compositions, in order to give them a more poetical turn, I would
recommend to their consideration the Pastorals of Mr. Philips.
One would have thought it impossible for this kind of poetry to
have subsisted without Fauns and Satyrs, Wood-nymphs and
Water-nymphs, with all the tribe of rural deities. But we see he
has given a new life and a more natura] beauty to this way of
writing, by substituting in the place of these antiquated fables,
the superstitious mythology which prevails among the shepherds
of our own country.” ‘That Addison was perfectly sincere in
what may be called his negative approbation, cannot be ques-
tioned, since it was his own “Campaign”? which had set the
wholesome example of rejecting the tiresome pedantry of classi-
cal mythology ; and he was certainly well entitled to promulgate
his critical canons ; at the same time it was natural that Pope,
to whom his poetical reputation was dear as the breath of life
itself, should find in them ground of deep though secret offence.
The cold generalities of the approbation granted to his Miscel-
lanies, comprehending his Pastorals, contrasted with the earnest
and affectionate recommendation of Tickell’s poem to the notice
and recompense of men in power, would appear more of a slight
than a compliment; while the praise of Philips’s Pastorals, on
the express ground of his rejection of the classical models, was a
direct condemnation of his own elaborate and unmeaning, though
harmonious and elegant performances in the same kind: formed
as they entirely are on imitation of the ancients. It would be
satisfactory to believe that Addison, intent upon the main object
of his paper, which was clearly that of rendering a service to his
friends Tickell and Philips, inflicted these wounds on the sensitive
spirit of Pope inadvertently, rather than by design. But that he
had held the satirical spirit of the youthful poet worthy of grave
reprehension, we know; that he might think his vanity and self-
importance deserving of rebuke is highly probable; and it is
certainly not impossible that some feelings of literary jealousy,
mingling, unknown to himself, with the whole, might render too

202 THE LIFE OF

welcome to him the office of administering wholesome mortification
to a young and formidable rival.

On the whole, however, both parties had too much merit, as
well as taste and discernment, not to do justice to one another;
and each in turn, notwithstanding some distrust and a want of
cordial liking, sought to avail himself of the critical acumen of the
other. Thus it was by Addison’s advice that Pope completed
and gave to the public the Temple of Fame; and when he had
conceived the felicitous idea of engrafting on his first draught of
the Rape of the Lock that exquisite Rosicrucian machinery to
which it owes its highest poetical beauties, he hastened to take
the opinion of the same counselor. Addison, however, sought to
dissuade him from the attempt. “It was a charming thing as it
stood,” he said, “merum sal; and it was a pity to meddle with
it.” Pope, however, to whose “eye of mind” his sylphs had
doubtless revealed themselves with graces which he could not as
yet render visible to another, persisted, fortunately for us, in his
design, and some of his biographers, judging from the event, have
brought this dissuasion in proof of the jealousy of his seeming
friend. A similar judgment might by parity of reasoning be
passed on an opinion given by Pope; who, being trusted by Ad-
dison with a view of the manuscript of Cato, advised him not. to
venture it on the stage. In both cases it would be but justice to
consider, that the probabilities were clearly on the negative side ;
for a piece already finished and excellent in its kind has rarely
been improved by re-casting, and the theatrical success of Cato,
notwithstanding its merits asa poem, would have been highly
improbable under ordinary circumstances. No blame, therefore,
can reasonably attach to either party in these instances; Pope, as
we have seen, bespoke the public favor for Cato by the noblest of
all prologues, and Addison assured Pope that he had powers to
command the admiration of the whole nation, provided he did not,
by plunging into party, content himself with the applauses of only
half of it. Here indeed was the rock on which their friendship
was most in danger of splitting. Ina political struggle so mo-
mentous as that of the latter years of Queen Anne, no reflecting
man could really feel himself neutral. Pope must have received
a strong bias from all the circumstances of his parentage, his
religion, and his early training, and repeatedly and earnestly as
he disclaims the imputation, must have been a party-man in his
heart from the very beginning; and he became more and more
prominently so to the end of his career. Seldom, indeed, in any
part of his writings, will he be found offering incense to a Whig,

JOSEPH ADDISON. 203
i ee AG ee ee
or applying the lash toa Tory. His friendships with the detected
jacobite conspirators, Atterbury and Bolingbroke, and their sus-
pected ally Swift, are those which he has chiefly gloried in im-
mortalizing; and like the last of these partisans, with whom he
had just contracted a strict intimacy, he had begun to pay court
to Harley and his fellow-ministers. Addison is said to have
pointed, with regret and displeasure, to some of the concluding
lines of Windsor Forest, published during the negotiation of the
treaty of Utrecht in 1713, in which the political bias was obvious.
It was in the same year that Pope, who had inserted in his first
volume of Miscellanies some specimens of a translation of Homer,
issued proposals for his Iliad; to be published by subscription.
“Mr. Addison,” he says in the preface to the work, “ was the first
whose advice determined me to undertake this task, who was
pleased to write to me upon that occasion in such terms as I can-
not repeat without vanity.’’ It is an observable circumstance that
Addison’s letters on this subject, which follow, printed in Pope’s
own collection of his correspondence, do not bear out the first
part of this statement, though they amply attest the friendly ex-
pressions with which he encouraged the design when made aware
that Pope had embarked in it.

MR. ADDISON TO MR. POPE. ©
Oct. 26, 1713.

I was extremely glad to receive a letter from you, but more so
upon reading the contents of it. The work you mention, will I
dare say, very sufficiently recommend itself when your name
appears with the proposals: And if you think I can any way
contribute to the forwarding of them, you cannot lay a greater
obligation upon me, than by employing me in such an office. As
I have an ambition of having it known that you are my friend, I
shall be very proud of showing it by this or any other instance.
I question not but your translation will enrich our tongue and do
honor to our country, for I conclude of it already from those per-
formances with which you have obliged the public. I would only
have you consider how it may most turn to your advantage. Ex-
cuse my impertinence in this particular, which proceeds from my
zeal for your ease and happiness. The work would cost you a
great deal of time, and unless you undertake it, will, I am afraid,
never be executed by any other; at least I know none of this age
that is equal to it besides yourself. _

I am at present totally immersed in country business, and begin

204 THE LIFE OF

~

to take delight in it. I wish I might hope to see you here some
time, and will not despair of it, when you engage in a work that
will require solitude and retirement. [am Your &c.

MR. ADDISON TO MR. POPE.

Nov 2, 1713.

I have received your letter, and am glad to find that you have
Jaid so good a scheme for your great undertaking. I question not
but the prose will require as much care as the poetry, but the
variety will give yourself some relief, and more pleasure to your
readers.

You gave me leave once to take the liberty of a friend in advis-
ing you not to content yourself with one half of the nation for your
admirers when you might command them all. If I might take
the freedom to repeat it, I would on this occasion. I think you
are very happy that you are out of the fray, and I hope all your
undertakings will turn to the better account for it.

You see how I presume on your friendship in taking all this free-
dom with you: But I already fancy that we have lived many years
together in an unreserved conversation, and that we may do so
many more is the sincere wish of Your &c.

Three letters written by Pope in return, and printed in the
same collection, contain much vague declamation against party,
and many protestations of his own impartiality. Of his real senti-
ments towards his correspondent they afford no information, ex-
cept that as they have even more of the parade of friendship and
devotedness than was customary with this poet in his so-called
familiar letters, they may be presumed to have less of sincerity.
In one passage profession is carried to an absolute absurdity: “This
makes me hope a letter from me will not be unwelcome to you,
when I am conscious I write with more uvreservedness than ever
man wrote, or perhaps talked to another. I trust your good nature
with the whole range of my follies, and really love you so well
that | would rather you should pardon me than esteem me; since
one is an act of goodness and benevolence, the other a kind of con-
strained deference.”’

It was just at the time of this correspondence that Steele
launched a new periodical work called the Guardian,* to which

AAR RAS

RPP ADR AAA AEA AAR AAR

* «Tt was launched in March, 1713, and was given over in the following Sep-
tember.’”’—Macaulay.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 205

Pope was a contributor, together with Addison and several per-
sons of his habitual society, and frequenters of Button’s: the chief
of whom were Tickell, Philips and Budgell. In this publication
there appeared a set of papers on Pastoral Poetry, written by
Tickell, and intended, or at least fitted, to serve as a recommenda-
tion of those eclogues of his friend Philips on which Addison had
already bestowed his favorable mention. The series concluded
with an allegory, which related the transmission of the true pas-
toral pipe through the hands of no more than four successive
owners, Theocritus, Virgil, Spenser and Philips. Severely nettled
at his second slight to his own claims, attended with so invidious
a preference of a far inferior performer, Pope sent to the Guardian,
shortly after, an anonymous sequel to Tickell’s papers, in which
he compared paralle] passages of his own pastorals and those of
Philips, which, under the semblance of constantly preferring them
he covered with ridicule, while he exalted his own performances.
The irony was so delicate, and managed with such perfect skill,
that it completely deceived Steele, who hesitated to print it, as
what might be offensive to Pope. Addison, however, as might
be expected, saw through the artifice at once, and is said to have
heartily enjoyed the joke. Philips himself was furious; and un-
able to devise any adequate literary retaliation, he is accused by
Pope of having made it his business to decry his character and
conduct as a man, rather than to criticise him as a writer. His
misrepresentations are more than once complained of in the letters
of Pope, as having been employed to injure him in the opinion of
Addison, although, as it should appear, without immediate or en-
tire success. ‘To an anonymous correspondent he writes as fol-
lows:
“June 8, 1714,

«The question you ask in relation to Mr. Addison, I shall an-
swer in a few words. Mr. Philips did express himself with much
indignation against me one evening at Button’s coffee house (as I
was told) saying, that I was entered into a cabal with Dean Swift
and others to write against the Whig interest, and in particular to
undermine his own reputation and that of his friends Steele and
Addison .... . Mr. Addison came to me a night or two after
Philips had talked in this idle manner and assured me of his dis-
belief of what had been said, of the friendship we should always
maintain, and desired I would say no more of it.”’

Little above a month after this time, when the death of Queen
Anne and the triumphant return of himself and his friends to

206 THE LIFE OF

power, gave a peculiar grace to any advances made by Addison
to a favorer or favorite of the expelled ministers, Jervas the painter
is found thus addressing his friend Pope:

«J have a particular to tell you at this time, which pleases me
so much, that you must expect a more than ordinary alacrity in
every turn... ... Mr. Addison and [ have had a conversation,
that it would have been worth your while to have been placed
behind the wainscot, or behind some half length picture to have
heard. He assured me, that he would make use not only of his
interest, but of his art to do you some service; he did not mean
his art of poetry, but his art at court; and he is sensible that no-
thing can have a better air for himself than moving in your favor,
especially since insinuations were spread, that he did not care you
should prosper too much as a poet. He protests that it shall not
be his fault, if there is not the best intelligence in the world, and
the most hearty friendship, &c. He owns, he was afraid Dr.
Swift might have carried you too far among the enemy, during
the heat of the animosity; but all now is safe, and you are escaped
even in his opinion. I promised in your name... . that you
would be delighted to find him your friend merely for his own
sake; therefore prepare yourself for some civilities.”’

Pope was far from meeting these advances inaconfiding spirit.
He thus replies to Jervas:

“What you mention of the friendly office you endeavored to
do betwixt Mr, Addison and me, deserves acknowledgments on
my part. You thoroughly know my regard to his character, and
my propensity to testify it by all ways in my power. You as
thoroughly know the scandalous meanness of that proceeding
which was used by Philips to make a man I so highly value, sus-
pect my dispositions toward him. But as, after all, Mr. Addison
must be the judge in what regards himself, and has seemed to be
no very just one to me, so, I must own to you, I expect nothing
but civility from him, how much soever I wish for his friendship,
As for any offices of real kindness or service which it is in his
power to do me, I should be ashamed to receive them from any
man who had no better opinion of my morals than to think me a
party-man; nor of my temper than to believe me capable of ma-
ligning or envying another’s reputation as a poet. Sol leave it
to time to convince him as to both; to show him the shallow
depths of those half-witted creatures who misinformed him, and
to prove that Iam incapable of endeavoring to lessen a person

JOSEPH ADDISON. 207

whom I would be proud to imitate and therefore ashamed to flatter.
In a word, Mr. Addison is sure of my respect at all times, and of
ry real friendship whenever he shall think fit to know me for what
am. )
“For all that passed between Dr. Swift and me, you know the
whole (without reserve) of our correspondence. The engagements
I had to him were such as the actual services he had done me, in
relation to the subscription for Homer, obliged me to. I must
have leave to be grateful to him, and to any one who serves me,
let him be ever so obnoxious to any party: nor did the Tory party
ever put me to the hardship of asking this leave, which is the
greatest obligation I owe to it; and J expect no greater from the
Whig party than the same liberty.”

- To Addison himself he writes as follows: ;
Oct. 10, 1714.

“JT have been acquainted by one of my friends, who omits no
opportunities of gratifying me, that you have lately been pleased
to speak of me in a manner which nothing but the real respect I
have for you can deserve. May I hope that some late malevo-
lencies have lost their effect ? indeed it is neither for me nor my
enemies to pretend to tell you whether I am your friend or not;
but if you would judge by probabilities, 1 beg to know which of
your poetical acquaintance has so little interest in pretending to
be so? Methinks no man should question the real friendship of
one who desires no real service. Iam only to get from the Whigs
as much as I got from the Tories, that is to say, civility; being
neither so proud as to be insensible of any good office nor so hum-
ble as not to dare heartily to despise any man who does me an
injustice.

“Twill not value myself upon having ever guarded all the
degrees of respect for you: for (to say the truth) all the world
speaks well of you: and I should be under a necessity of doing the
same, whether I cared for you or not.

« As to what you have said of me, I shall never believe that the
author of Cato can speak one thing and think another. As a
proof that I account you sincere, I beg a favor of you: It is, that
you would look over the two first books of my translation of Homer,
which are in the hands of my Lord Halifax. I am sensible how
much the reputation of any poetical work will depend upon the
character you give it: “tis therefore some evidence of the trust I
repose in your good will, when I give you the opportunity of

208 THE LIFE OF

speaking ill of me with justice; and yet expect you will tell me
your truest thoughts at the same time that you tell others your
most favorable ones. ae

“T have a further request which I must press with earnestness.
My bookseller is reprinting the Essay on Criticism to which you
have done too much honor in your Spectator of N 253. The
period in that paper where you say, [ have admitted some strokes
of ill nature into that Essay, is the only one 1 could wish omitted
of all you have written; but I would not desire it should be so,
unless I had the merit of removing your objection. I beg you but
to point out these strokes to me, and you may be assured they
shall be treated without mercy.” &c.

Addison’s reply does not appear, but Pope related to Spence
the sequel of the affair in the following terms: “ There had been
a coldness between Mr. Addison and me for some time, and we
had not been in company together for a good while, anywhere
but at Button’s coffee house, where I used to see him almost every
CE k odo ben ae On his meeting me there one day in particular, he took
me aside, and said he should be glad to dine with me at such a
tavern, if 1 would stay till those people (Budgell and Philips)
were gone. We went accordingly, and after dinner Mr. Addison
said, ‘that he had wanted for some time to talk with me; that his
friend Tickell had formerly, whilst at Oxford, translated the first
book of the Iliad. That he now designed to print it; and had
desired him to look it over: he must therefore beg that I would
not desire him to look over my first book, because, if he did, it
would have the air of double-dealing.’

“JT assured him that I did not at all take it ill of Mr. Tickell
that he was going to publish his translation; that he certainly had
as much right totranslate any author as myself; and that publish-
ing both was entering ona fair stage. I added, that I would not
desire him to look over my first book of the Iliad, because he had
looked over Mr. Tickell’s; but would wish to have the benefit of
his observations on my second, which I had then finished, and
which Mr. Tickell had not touched upon. Accordingly, I sent
him the second book the next morning; and in a few days he
returned it with very high commendation.’’*

It should appear that this open dealing on the part of Addison
either really dispelled for a time the jealousy which Pope was
likely to conceive on the disclosure of Tickell’s design, or at least

Fp a a a at ta lt te ta a TOC O TT

* Spence’s Anecdotes by Singer.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 209

obliged him to dissemble it. The high encomiums bestowed by
Addison on his second book had likewise, it is probable, their
effect. In April 1715, when Addison was sitting to Jervas for his
portrait, we learn from a letter of Gay’s that Pope went to meet
him, and in the same year he wrote his elegant and complimentary
lines on the Dialogues on Medals, which Addison had at this time
a design of publishing. But this amity was of short duration.
In June following, just at the time when the first volume of Pope’s
liad, containing four books, was delivered to his long and splendid
list of subscribers, the appearance of Tickell’s translation of the
first book rekindled all his suspicion and resentment. An adver-
tisement was prefixed, in which the author announced, that hav-
ing had the pleasure of being diverted from the thoughts of trans-
lating the whole Lliad by finding that it was fallen into a much
abler hand, he published this small specimen with no other view
than to bespeak if possible the favor of the public to a translation
of the Odyssey in which he had made some progress: a state-
ment which might appear expressly calculated to quiet all appre-
hensions of rivalry; but in which there lurked perhaps a fresh
ground of offence. If, as is not improbable, Pope already looked
forward to a second profitable task, he might apprehend that, oc-
cupied as he was with the remaining books of the Iliad, it would
not be in his power, even with the aid of journeymen, of which
he afterwards availed himself to so disgraceful an extent, to anti-
cipate the completion of Tickell’s Odyssey. However this might
be, he henceforth regarded the little knot of Whig authors at
Button’s, and Addison at their head, with implacable resentment.
As usual in such cases, injudicious partisans or secret enemies
continually added fuel to the flame by their officious informations.
Various reports were brought him of speeches in disparagement
of his Homer; in particular, Addison was said to have declared
that both translations were very well done, but that 'Tickell’s had
more of the Greek,—a remark which, considering the defective
scholarship of Pope in comparison with what may be ascribed to
an accomplished member of the university of Oxford, was likely
to be just, and certain to be the more offensive on that account.
The whole venom of his rage bursts forth in some passages of one
of his published letters to Mr. Craggs.

“They tell me that the busy part of the nation are not more
divided about Whig and Tory, than these idle fellows of the feather
about Mr. T.’s and my translation. I (like the Tories) have the
mob, that is, the town in general, on my side; but it is usual with

14

210 THE LIFE OF

the smaller party to make up in industry what they want in num-
ber, and that is the case with the littie senate of Cato. However,
if our principles be well considered, I must appear a brave Whig, »
and Mr. T. a rank Tory: I translated Homer for the public in
general, he, to gratify the inordinate desires of one man only. We
have, it seems, a great Turk in poetry, who can never beara
brother on the throne; and has his mutes too, a set of nodders,
winkers and whisperers, whose business is to strangle all other off-
springs of wit in their birth. The new translator of Homer is the
humblest slave he has, that is to say, his first minister; let him
receive the honors he gives him, but receive them with fear and
trembling; let him be proud of the approbation of his absolute lord.
I appeal to the people, as my rightful judges and masters; and if
they are not inclined to condemn me, I fear no arbitrary high-fly-
ing proceeding from the small court-faction at Button’s. But after
all I have said of this great man, there is no rupture between us.
We are each of us so civil and obliging, that neither of us thinks
he is obliged: and I, for my part, treat with him as we do with
the Grand Monarch; who has too many great qualities not to be
respected, though we know he watches any occasion to oppress
Us,”

It will be perceived that we have here all the imagery and all
the topics of reproach contained in the celebrated lines in which
the satirist has stabbed at the fair fame of Addison under the name
of Atticus; which we may therefore presume to have been written
about the same time. In the letter, no other grounds for his re-
sentment are shown than the encouragement which Atticus is
supposed to have given to the rival translation; but Spence in-
forms us, that Pope himself,—it must have been many years after- ~
wards,—gave him the following account of the origin of this libel-
ous portrait.

‘Philips seemed to have been encouraged to abuse me in cof-
fee houses and conversations: Gildon wrote a thing about Wy-
cherley, in which he abused both me and my relations very
grossly. Lord Warwick himself told me, one day, that it was in
vain forme to endeavor to be well with Mr. Addison; that his
jealous temper would never admit of a settled friendship between
us, and to convince me of what he had said, assured me that Addi-
son had encouraged Gildon to publish those scandals,and had given
him ten guineas after they were published. The next day, while
I was heated with what I had heard, I wrote a letter to Mr. Ad-

JOSEPH ADDISON. 211

dison to let him know that I was not unacquainted with this be-
havior of his; that if I were to speak severely of him in return
for it, it should not be in such a dirty way; that I should rather
tell him fairly of his faults, and allow his good qualities; and that
it should be something in the following manner. I then subjoined
the first sketch of what has been called my satire on Addison.
He used me very civilly ever after; and never did me any in-
justice that I know of from that time to his death, which was about
three years after.”

Pope likewise mentioned to Spence, among his hypothetical
causes of complaint against Addison, that Young, on hearing that
Tickell’s version of the first liad was said to have been made at
Oxford, declared that there must be some mistake, for that he was
so intimate with him there, that they showed each other even the
smallest things that they wrote, and that Tickell could not have
ben engaged in so long a work without his having heard a single
word of the business. From this evidence Pope concluded that
there had been “ some underhand dealing in that matter.”

To refute these accusations does not appear difficult. That Ad-
dison should have “ encouraged’’ Philips to abuse Pope is not
very consistent with his former charge, that Philips set Addison
against him, and any such encouragement must certainly have
been entirely superfluous; more especially since Pope had now
added to his first insidious attack on Philips’s Pastorals, the farther
provocation of inciting Gay to write his Shepherd’s Week as a
burlesque upon them.

The charge of hiring Gildon,—for it amounts to this,—to cast
reproaches on Pope and his parents, is one so repugnant to every-
thing we know or can imagine of the worthy character, and both
prudent and mild disposition of Addison, that it could only be
credited on the strongest and most conclusive evidence, and of
what nature is that offered us? Supposing that Pope, speaking
on a topic on which he was angry and prejudiced to excess, gave
a perfectly exact account of conversation which had passed long
years before ; and supposing that his obsequious admirer Spence
altered or added nothing in relating the story, Lord Warwick, not
yet Addison’s son-in-law or domesticated with him, a youth of but
seventeen,—by no means the age of accuracy or judgment,—alier
an unfavorable remark on the temper of Addison, affirms that he
had encouraged Gildon to publish these scandals, and had given
him ten guineas after the publication. Who does not perceive,
that even had the fact been so, all that a man of caution and ex-

212, THE LIFE OF

perience could possibly have permitted this boy to know, must
have been the simple facts, that he had encouraged Gildon to write
a life of Wycherley, and had made him a present afterwards?
What shadow of proof have we that Gildon was directed to go out
of his subject to bring in these scandals, or even that Addison was
aware that he had done so when he gave him the money? Sup-
posing however that he was aware of it; what would have been
thought of a patron of letters, a minister of state, of any gentleman,
who should have withheld from an author in very necessitous
circumstances an expected gratuity, on the ground of his book
containing some abuse of another man of letters? It is also certain
that if «« Atticus’? were written, as there is every reason to believe,
on the appearance of Tickell’s translation, in the middle of the
year 1715, it could not have been provoked by Addison’s supposed
‘ hiring of Gildon to write the life of Wycherley, for the conclusive
reason that Wycherley did not die till the December of that year.
Nor is there the most distant intimation of such a heinous charge
in those venomous lines, which certainly contained all that the
writer then knew, or imagined, or suspected against their subject.
Yet Pope has taken care to stigmatize Gildon’s as a “ venal quill,”
in one of his later satires.

With respect to Tickell, the insinuation is. that Addisoninduced
him to begin his translation of Homer after the public announce-
ment of Pope’s, and in direct rivalry with it. Can we then believe
that Addison had so little true regard for his youthful friend and
protégé as to engage him in a task of such “ pith and moment,’
under the heavy disadvantage of its having been already under-
taken, and partly executed, by a poet of first rate eminence, sup-
ported by a great subscription? And this merely to gratify his
own enmity? The idea is absurd. Young’s negative evidence,
if correctly reported, might perhaps lead us to suspect that the
translation was only commenced at Oxford; but if so, what is that
to Addison? And when Tickell had formally relinquished the
Iliad to Pope, what occasion of further jealousy? The successful
translator of Homer’s first epic would certainly not want encourage-
ment to undertake his second, if so disposed. Finally, why should
Tickell not have entered into a fair competition with Pope or any
other writer, and why should Addison be blamed, if, loving him
as he did, he gave some praises to a performance of such spirit
and elegance as his printed specimen? .

What, on the other hand, can we say of the temper and feelings
of a man who, on vague suspicions and jealousies, on hints and
hearsays put together by conjecture, on shadows of offence mag-

—_—.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 213

nified by the mirage of vanity and self-importance, could permit
himself to perpetrate such an act of vengeance, and against such
a person? The commendations intermingled in the character of
Atticus are very far from a palliation of its malignity. All the
world spoke well of Addison, as Pope had observed, and whatever
might be his sentiments, he could not venture to attack his repu-
tation without beginning by allowing him genius, a worthy ambi-
tion, and the arts of pleasing. But of what value are these, when
he imputed to him all the virulence of literary jealousy, restrained
only by a base cowardice,

** Willing to wound and yet afraid to strike ;”

combined with a desire of giving the law, and a contemptible crav-
ing for the gross adulation of inferiors and dependents? The
act of sending the lines to him who was their subject, was an
outrageous insult. They were not published till years after the
death of Addison, and those “ libels,’’ as Pope styled them, in
which they were asserted not to have been written before that
event, may be thought to do him less discredit than his own ac-
count of the transaction. ‘The baseness of a revenge which dis-
dained not to *“* prey upon carcases,’”’ is the same in either case ;
and his expressly communicating, to the man he hated, the polished
and pointed lines in which he had branded him with memorable,
and as he hoped, indelible reproach, would only prove his intense
vindictiveness. ‘The retort of Addison is the most remarkable
circumstance of the whole affair. By some it has been called an
« amende honorable,’ and such indeed it was; honorable in the
highest degree to him who had the true wisdom, the magnanimity,
and it may be added, the Christian spirit, to make it. Be it ob-
served, that it was after receiving such an “ amende,” or rather
such a confutation of his cruel charges, that Pope allowed himself
to deliver down to posterity the character of Addison, such as his
distorting prejudice had previously represented it.

In the 40th number of his political paper the Freeholder, the
jealous Addison has gone out of his way to do justice in these
terms to the merits of Pope’s Iliad, and express his satisfaction in
the support it met with: **When I consider myself as a British
Freeholder, I am in a particular manner pleased with the labors
of those who have improved our language by the translation of
old Greek and Latin authors, and by that means let us into the
knowledge of what passed in the famous governments of Greece
and Rome. We have already most of their historians in our own
tongue: And, what is still more for the honor of our language,

214. THE LIFE OF

it has been taught to express with elegance the greatest of their
poets in each nation. The illiterate among our countrymen may
learn to judge from Dryden’s Virgil of the most perfect epic per-
formance. And those parts of Homer which have already been
published by Mr. Pope, give us reason to think that the Hiad will
appear in English with as little disadvantage to that immortal
poem.

“ There is another whom I have long wished to see translated
into English, as his work is fitted, and more directly tends, to raise
sentiments of honor and virtue in his reader than any of the po-
etical writings of antiquity. I mean the Pharsalia of Lucan. This
is the only author of consideration among the Latin poets who was
not explained for the use of the Dauphin, for a very obvious reason;
because the whole Pharsalia would have been no less than a satire
upon the French form of government. The translation of this
author is now in the hands of Mr. Rowe, who has already given
the world some admirable specimens of it; and not only kept up
the fire of the original, but delivered the sentiments with greater
perspicuity, and in a finer turn of phrase and verse.

« As undertakings of so difficult a nature require the greatest
encouragements, one cannot but rejoice to see those general sub-
scriptions which have been made to them; especially since if the
two works last mentioned are not finished by those masterly hands
which are now employed in them, we may despair of seeing them
attempted by others.”’

Such are all the particulars on which we can safely rely of this
lamentable quarrel,—if such a term may be employed where the
gauntlet cast down by one party was not taken up by the other.*

I

* T have designedly thrown out of consideration a meeting related to have
been held by Rope and Addison, in presence of their respective friends Gay and
Steele, to discuss their differences amicably, but ending in mutual reproaches
and abuse, and afinal breach. ‘The first account of this meeting was given, thirty
years afterwards, in a short life of Pope, the last survivor of the parties concerned,
which appeared immediately on his death. This life purports to be written by
one Ayres, of whom nothing is known, but was believed at the time to have been
compiled, as well as published, by the notorious Edmund Curll. Without dwell-
ing on other considerations which throw discredit on the narration, it will suffice
to remind the reader, that Pope himself, in the letter to Craggs already quoted
evidently written just before the character of Atticus, expressly states that there
is no outward breach between himself and Addison ; that even the character was
sent to him under the name of a ‘< friendly rebuke ;?? and that by Pope’s own
confession, Addison treated him very civilly ever afterwards. This coarse and
clumsy fabrication, therefore, although adopted by Ruffhead in his life of Pope
and incautiously admitted by writers of superior character since, cannot possibly
have had even the slighest foundation in matter of fact, since it is plain that
there never was any open quarrel or dispute between these parties.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 215

It is a melancholy example of the propensity of mankind to give
the readiest welcome to detraction aimed against the eminent and
the excellent, that the true character of Addison should still be
sought in the prejudiced representation of his avowed enemy,
writing under the immediate impulse of personal offence, and
himself notoriously one of the most irritable and vindictive of an
irritable race, rather than in the combined testimonies of all the
other cotemporaries who are known to have mentioned him. Of
his love of merit and constant endeavors to befriend it, many
striking examples have been adduced in these pages,—it may
be added, that he lived in constant friendship with Dryden,
Congreve and Garth, praised Cowe as: a writer, and was loved
by Swift. His jealousy of kindred genius and accomplishments
appears nowhere but in the lines of Pope; and while we learn
from this source that he lived and ruled in a little senate of depen-
dents, “attentive to his own applause;’’ the incidental notices of
Swift, of Steele and others of his intimates, distinctly prove, that
he passed his time partly in the first society, whether for rank and
political importance, or for wit and genius, and partly in the rural
and studious retirement which he loved. According to his enemy,
his nature was compounded of inconsistencies worthy of laughter,
and faults or vices deserving of tears; yet that very enemy con-
fesses, that he was the theme of universal commendation, and that
his society had something more charming in it than that of any
other man. ‘The inference may be safely left to the judgment of
the reader.

_ Of wrongs, real or imaginary, treasured up in a vindictive
mind, it may be truly said,

«¢ Time but th’? impression stronger makes,
As streams their channels deeper wear ;”?

and the resentment of Pope against the perpetrator of what he
regarded as a hostile though ineffective stroke aimed at his Ho-
mer, instead of fading gradually away by the natural effect of the
complacency shed over the mind by success, still went on spread-
ing wider and entering further into his heart. His discernment
of style was too acute to have suffered him to imagine, in the first
instance, that the translation announced as Tickell’s was in effect
the production of Addison ; for the versification of Tickell is not
only of a totally different character from. that of his illustrious
friend, but in several respects superior to it. He had in particu-
lar that facility of rhyming which Hurd notes Addison to have
wanted. None of his translations from Ovid can be compared, in
neatness of execution, with this specimen of the [liad. In fact,

216 THE LIFE OF '

the character of Atticus, as at first printed, contained a couplet
perfectly conclusive of the opinion of Pope on its authorship,
which was afterwards canceled :
<¢ Who when two wits on rival themes contest, —
Approves of both, but likes the worst the best.”

By degrees, however, his suspicions darkened, and not content
with regarding his hated enemy as the prompter and ally of his
rival, he either achieved the belief, or at all events allowed himself
to hazard the assertion that he was himself that rival. After the
death of Addison, a hint thrown out by Steele, in the fit of displea-
sure against Tickell which prompted his letter to Congreve con-
cerning the play of the Drummer, gave a seeming warrant to this
notion; and in his treatise on the Bathos, Pope has dared to
quote expressly as Addison’s several lines of this translation,
which he thought proper to hold up to ridicule.

The papers of the Tickell family supply conclusive evidence
of the groundlessness of these malignant fancies. They prove,
not only that this version of the first iad was Tickell’s own, and
so considered by his friends at the time; but that, so far from
having thrown it off as a mere specimen of his powers, or with
the purpose of giving Pope a false alarm of rivalry, he had pre-
viously entered into an agreement with a bookseller for the trans-
lation of the whole poem. More than this, they contain the
draught of some very sensible remarks by way of preface, de-
signed to explain the principles of poetical translation on which
the work had been executed. ‘To believe that all these laborious
preparations would have been made by any person solely for the
purpose of “ gratifying the inordinate desires of one man,’’ would
exceed the credulity of prejudice herself.

The literary reader will peruse with interest both the remarks
of Tickell, and two letters addressed to him on this occasion; the
first from his friend Young, the second from Dr. Lancaster, master
of Queen’s College, Oxford. All these pieces are transcribed from
the Tickell papers and have never before appeared in print.

The intended preface runs as follows:

«Tf in this work I have not always confined myself to a Literal
Version of y* Original, which would have been irksome to an
English Reader, as well as Translator ; I have at least taken pains
to reject every phrase that is not entirely Homerical, and have
industriously avoided mixing y* Elegance or Ease of Virgil and
Ovid with y® Simplicity, Majesty, and Vehemence of Homer:
so that any seeming Deviation from y* sense of y*® very words
translated may be justified from Parallel Passages in y° Iliad.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 217
There is one Particular wherein I have taken y° liberty to
differ from all y® Translations of Homer that I have seen; and
that is in y* Rendering of the Compound Epithets rather by
a Paraphrase than by Compound Words in our own Tongue.
After repeated Trials of skill to lmk many words in one to
answer a sonorous word in y* Original, have we not found that
these Pains-takers have been translating Homer into Greek;
-and what was Elegance and Musick in one Language is Harsh-
ness and Pedantry in another? | In y* first Iliad, for example, y°
cloud-compelling Jove, y* Golden-throned Juno, y° far-shooting,
and silver-bow’d Apollo, y*° white-armed Juno, and Ox-eyed Juno,
y° swift-footed Achilles, y* brazen-step’d House, y* thunder-loving
God, y® much-snowy Olympus, y® much-sounding shore, &c., are
so many several epithets, which tho’ elegant and sonorous in y°
Greek, become either un-intelligible, un-musical, or burlesque in
English. And that this is wholly owing to y* different Genius of
y® two Languages is hence apparent, because y* same Ideas,
when expressed in a manner suitable to y° Turn of our Tongue,
give y* same pleasure to us, that y*° Ancients received in reading
y° Original. And I cannot but observe upon this head, that Vir-
gil himself, in a Language much more capable of Composition
than our’s, hath often governed himself according to this Rule.
As this manner of Translation is much y°® most pleasing to y°
Reader, it is y° hardest to y* Translator: it being no less when it
is judiciously [accurately ] performed, than to take an Image that
lay confused, and draw it out in its fairest Light, and full Propor-
tions: or, in a Similitude used by my Lord Bacon upon another
occasion, it is to open y® Embroidery, that is folded in y* Pack,
and to spread out every Figure in its perfect Beauty. I shall add
briefly to y* foregoing Observation, that there are several Epithets
in y° Greek ‘Tongue, which, as in other Languages, have not
strictly y®° same meaning in their usual acceptation, as from y°
Words, whence they were originally derived, they seem to bear.
For example, the words which literal Translators have rendered
Dogs-eyes, and Drunkard, signifie no more than Impudent and
Sot. The general mistake in this point hath occasioned many in-
delicate Versions and ignorant Criticisms.”

MR. YOUNG TO MR. TICKELL.
«To Mr. Tickell at Button’s Coffee House in Covent Garden.”
; London, June 28.

Dear Tickell—Be assured I want no new inducement to behave
myself like your friend. To be very plain, the University almost

218 THE LIFE OF

in general gives the preference to Pope’s Translation; they say
his is written with more Spirit, Ornament and Freedom, and has
more the air of an original. I inclined some; Hanton &c., to
compare the Translation with the-Greek; which was done, and it
made some smal] alteration in their opinions, but still Pope was
their man. The bottom of the case is this, they were strongly
prepossest in Pope’s favor, from a wrong notion of your design
before the Poem came down; and the sight of yours has not force
enough upon them to make them willing to contradict themselves,
and own they were in the wrong; but they go far for prejudiced
persons, and own yours an excellent translation, nor do I hear any
violently affirm it to be worse than Pope’s, but those who look. on
Pope as a miracle, and among those to your comfort Evans is the
first, and even these zealots allow that you have outdone Pope in
some particulars. JZ. g., the speech beginning
*¢ Oh sunk in Avarice, &c.,
And leave a naked, &c.”

Upon the whole I affirm the performance has gained you much
Reputation, and when they compare you with what they should
compare you, with Homer only, you are much admired. It has
given I know many of the best judges a desire to see the Odys-
sies by the same hand, which they talk of with pleasure, and I
seriously believe your first piece of that will quite break their
partiality for Pope, which your Iliad has weaken’d and secure
your success. Nor think my opinion groundlessly swayed by my
wishes, for [ observe, as Prejudice cools, you grow in favour, and
you are a better Poet now than when your Homer first came down.
I am persuaded fully that your design cannot but succeed here,
and it shall be my hearty desire and endeavour that it may.

Dear 'Tickell yours most affectionately
EK. Youne.

My humble service to Mr. Addison and Sir Rich’,

FROM DR. LANCASTER TO MR. TICKELL.

Dear sir—I find in our Newspapers that Lord Sunderland is
preparing for his journey ; and I suppose you are all busy packing
up for your kingdom of Ireland, so that 1 am’ afraid you have lost
your time for seeing your college, for a long season: tho’ I still
think his Excellency will see the end of this Session of Parlia-
ment before he moves, and not leave the great affair of Impeach-
ments unfinished, tho’ they move but slowly. So that I would

JOSEPH ADDISON. 219

willingly persuade myself we may have yet a chance of seeing
you here.

I hear very little in this place of any body’s Homer. Mr.
Pope’s does not much appear, nor show itself to any but where it is
subscribed for; only Dr. Farrer of Mag. Coll. has read both, and
is much pleased with your performance. We found fault with
“Pluto’s gloomy reign” in Pope v. 3. since Reign denotes time
not place. KE. g. K. Ch.’s Reign, K. George’s Reign, signifie
two different times not places. Pope has this Reign more than
once, so that I suppose you Poets may have authority for it; and
I find Nonsense gains Authority every day. I lately saw a dedi-
cation to Robert Earl of Oxford and it began “If I was” &c.,
instead of “If I were,’ which was laught at till the Report came
* * * * Was is used with If before it. In our new prayers for
Aug * * * stead of “For that it hath pleased Thee,’ as is usual
in prayers we have now got, “For that thou wast pleased” &c.
I think it the first time that ever I met with “ Wast’ in my life
unless in Quaker’s Book. So then and than. I remember there
was a dispute about those two words and it was referr’d to Sir
Roger L’Estrange, who writ a discourse about them and con-
cluded that Than ought not to be admitted into the English Tongue
* * %*

I have many more observations of this kind, but Mr. Web is
come to call for this Epistle otherwise I would have made it a
finish’d learned Discourse, such as I made once to your friend
the Master, in behalf of Printing upon Brown paper rather than
White.* Iam, Dear Sir, Yours fies

Q. C. July 3.1715.

ARARRARAR AAA AERA Arne

* The manuscript is somewhat mutilated.

PAR eee PLL LL ALL

220 THE LIFE OF

ad

CHAPTER XII.
1718 to 1715.

Peace of Utrecht attacked by Whigs. Addison’s Count Tariff. Pamphlet as-
cribed to him perhaps wrongfully. The Crisis. Steele expelled the House
of Commons for it. Assisted in his defence by Addison and Walpole. Bo-
lingbroke attempts to bring him over to his party, but fails. His Treatise on
the Evidences of Christianity. Character of the work. Steele puts a stop to
the Spectator at the end of the seventh volume and sets up the Guardian.
Character of Addison’s papers in it. Termination of the Guardian. Eighth
volume of the Spectator. Correspondence respecting a New Periodical
Work. State of public affairs. Declining health of the queen. Treachery
of the ministers who conspire to bring in the Pretender. Efforts of the Jaco-
bites. Counter-measures of Whig Peers. Quarrels of Oxford and Boling-
broke. Death of the queen. Vigorous measures of the council. George I,
proclaimed. Lords Justices appointed. Addison chosen their secretary.
Foolish tale concerning him. Letter to M. De Robethon. His memorial to
the king. Lord Sunderland, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, appoints him chief
secretary. He refuses to give up the acquaintance of Swift. Correspondence
of Archbishop King. Letters of Major Dunbar. Remarks. Anecdote. Au-
thorship of the Drummer.

WE now return from this unwelcome digression to trace the
main stream of the life of Addison, which at this time flowed with
a somewhat hurried course. |The peace of Utrecht, the signature
ef which the queen announced on the meeting of Parliament in
April 1713, roused the indignant zeal of all lovers of the honor
and the interests of their country. The ministers were loudly
denounced as adherents and pensioners of France; and the storm
of pamphlets with which they were assailed urged them to prompt
her majesty to demand of her faithful Commons stronger laws for
the repression of libels.

No portion of the treaty was exposed to stronger animadversion
than the articles concerning commerce, in which it was obvious
that British interests had been shamefully sacrificed through the
inadvertence or corruption of the negotiators. In this part of the
quarrel Addison engaged with weapons peculiarly his own. Even
now that the subject itself has lost all its interest, his allegory of
the lawsuit between Count Tariff and Goodman Fact, may be
read with pleasure for its ingenuity, its humor, and the happy
colloquialisms of the style.

By way of feeling the pulse of the English people, the agents
or favorers of the French king now published, and circulated

JOSEPH ADDISON. 221

widely, an Address to the queen from the magistrates of Dun-
kirk ; modestly petitioning her to dispense with the execution of
an article by which Louis had bound himself to secure England
for the future against the annoyance of that nest of pirates, by
the demolition of its harbor and fortifications. Instantly a whole
troop of answerers was in the field; among whom are enume-
rated, Steele, Manwaring and Addison. In Tickell’s edition, how-
ever, no piece of Addison’s on this subject appears, nor is any |
such alluded to in his prefatory memoir ; therefore the truth of
this matter is somewhat uncertain. More doubt was thought to
hang over the authorship of a pamphlet of greater notoriety, but
small literary merit, entitled the Crisis, and designed to alarm the
nation with apprehensions of arbitrary power and a popish suc-
cessor. Steele avowed it and received subscriptions for it, and
certainly suffered for it; yet before the publication of Steele’s
Correspondence, which plainly fixes it upon him, it was com-
monly supposed to be the work of a Whig junto, of whom Addi-
son is named as one ; with regard to him, however, the suspicion
was not only untrue but absurd; and we have proof that he
strongly disapproved a vehemence so contrary to his own habits
and disposition. ‘The piece was censured in Parliament, together
with some passages in two numbers of the Englishman,—a poli-
tical paper allowed on all hands to be Steele’s,—as a scandalous
and seditious libel; and a motion was made for his expulsion
from the House, he being at this time member for Stockbridge.
He obtained permission, though with difficulty, to speak first in
his own defence. Hereupon, * Mr. Walpole, Mr. Pultney,
and Mr. Addison were commissioned to go to him from the
Kiteat club, with their positive order and determination that
Steele should not make his own speech, but that Addison should
make it for him, and he should read it from the other’s writing
without any insertion or addition of his own. Addison thought
this a hard injunction, and said he must be like a schoolboy,
and desire the gentleman to give him a little sense. Walpole
said that it was impossible to speak a speech in cold blood: but
being pressed, said he would try ; and immediately spoke a very
good speech of what he thought proper for Steele to say on the
occasion, and the next day in the House made another speech as
good or better on the same subject, but so totally different from
the former, that there was scarce a single thought or argument the
same.’’* -

~

i

——————— LO ESEeEeaEeEeEeEeEeE

~~

* Life of Bishop Newton by himself in Coxe’s Walpole, i. 45.

222 THE LIFE OF

It is not improbable, after all, that the speech made by Steele was
in fact supplied to him by Addison, since he is said to have “ en-
tered on his defence with a temper, modesty and eloquence quite
unusual to him.”’t He continued speaking three hours: but was
unable to avert the vote of expulsion which was carried against
him.

While Addison chid, without being able to moderate the head-
long zeal of his old associate, and lamented in vain the ruin in
which it was contributing to involve him, his own moderation,
which was in reality the result of good sense, not indifference,
inspired one of the opposite leaders with hopes of his conversion.
The value of such an accession to a party now shaken at once
by assaults from without and dissensions within, justified a decided
effort; and Bolingbroke, to whom he was previously no stranger,
asked of him a confidential interview. They conversed freely
together for two hours, but parted with the full knowledge that
“they differed foto celo in politics.”’ Addison, indeed, had long
since penetrated into the true character of this accomplished man,
but ambitious, resentful and totally unprincipled politician. Spence
relates from Pope, that on Parnell’s having been introduced into
Lord Bolingbroke’s company, and speaking afterwards of the great
pleasure he had in his conversation, Mr. Addison “came out with
his usual expression, ‘If he had but as good a heart as he has a
head,’ ’’ and applied to him that “cankered Bolingbroke’’ from
Shakspeare.

In the midst of these busy scenes Addison, by meritorious dili-
gence, found means to rescue from the service of party a portion
of that precious time on which he felt that there were higher
claims. It was in this year that he began that treatise on the
Evidences of Christianity which was left a fragment of small
extent at his death. How much of time and labor he actually
gave to this object we have not the means of knowing, nor whe-
ther it was a design which with longer life he would have carried
to completion, or one that he had laid aside.. His real modesty
and the general soundness of his judgment considered, it is highly
probable that he must soon have abandoned it, on coming to a
perception that to do justice to such a subject would demand wider
research, other and deeper learning, and a mind more formed to
the strictness of logical deduction, than were at present his; or
were, perhaps, within his powers of acquisition. In any case, it
is certain that of this effort of his pen, highly as it was com-

»

t Life of Bishop Newton by himself in Coxe’s Walpole, i. 43.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 223

Sts aT

mended at the time of its first appearance,—as any contribution
of such a man to such a cause was sure of being,—the intrinsic
value is very small. Prodigious advances, it should in candor be
recollected, have since been made in all the branches of erudition
and knowledge applicable to the study and illustration of this im-
portant topic. Thanks to the learned labors of Lardner and others,
much less than the abilities and accomplishments of an Addison,
would now suffice for the preparation of a popular summary of the
Historical Evidences of Christianity incomparably superior to his
in correctness and cogency.

In December 1712, Steele, at the conclusion of the seventh
volume of the Spectator, took leave of the world in this charac-
ter; and in the month of March following reappeared in that of
the Guardian. We now know that both these steps were taken
by him for reasons of his own, and without the concurrence or
even the knowledge, of Addison. Accordingly, the first volume
of the Guardian is not enriched with any contributions of his; to
the second he gave about fifty numbers. Of those rarest of intel-
lectual products, when exquisite in their kind, wit and humor,
these papers have a smaller proportion than those of their author
in the Tatler and Spectator ;—of grave moralizing they have more.
Little or nothing of literary criticism is found in them, but an
agreeable variety is made by the introduction of some letters,
which we now know to have been real ones written to friends
while the author was on his travels, and there are fancy-pieces
which rank with his very best. But the frame of the work was
a dull one; it suggested no fresh topics, afforded no happy hints ;
even the genius of Addison began perhaps to feel that its brightest
inspirations had been uttered, and his papers have somewhat less
of animation than before. The work however was acceptable ; it
had able contributors, and it seems to have been a disappointment
both to them and to the public, when Steele, having carried it on
through no more than two volumes, suddenly dropped it, in Oc-
tober 1713, to give himself up entirely to politics and his new
party-paper the Englishman. Apparently, a considerable quan-
tity of unused material was still left in the hands of Addison and
other contributors; and after some time they agreed to give the
public the benefit of it by resuscitating the defunct Spectator, of
which an eighth volume appeared between the months of June
and December, 1714, in which Steele had no concern. Even in
the brief interva] between the termination of the Guardian and
this revival, he whose genius had been the animating soul of both,
was plied with earnest solicitations to extend his aid to other

224 THE LIFE OF

undertakings founded on the same general plan; as is testified by
the correspondence which follows.

.

MR. HUGHES TO MR. ADDISON.

October 6, 1713.

Dear sir—I do not doubt but you know by this time that Mr.
Steele has abruptly dropped the Guardian. He hag published
this day a paper called the Englishman which begins with an
answer to the Examiner, written with great boldness and spirit,
and shows that his thoughts are at present entirely on politics.
Some of his friends are in pain about him, and are concerned that
a paper should be discontinued which might have been generally
entertaining without engaging in party matters.

I know not whether any such paper as the Guardian may here-
after be attempted by other hands. I remember you were once
pleased to ask me what would be a good plan; and this unex-
pected occasion has given me a thought, which I beg to offer to
your consideration: and because I cannot, at this distance, so
well explain it to you in the compass of a letter, I enclose a slight
sketch I have just begun of it to-day. . . . . Lwish I could tempt
you by any shght thought of mine, to take something of this kind
into consideration: I should, on such condition, be willing to fur-
nish one paper in a week, on this, or any plan you shall think more
proper, but without you I shall make no further use of it.

I shall only add, that it is my opinion, and I believe that of most
others, that such a paper should be only three times a week:

when it should begin, or whether at all or no, submit to you... .
&e.

MR. ADDISON TO MR. HUGHES.

Bilton, Oct. 12,1713.

Dear,sir—I am very much obliged to you for your kind letter
and the specimen, which I read over with great pleasure.—I think
the title of the Register would be less assuming than that of the
Humanity-Club: but to tell you truly, I have been so taken up
with thoughts of that nature for these two or three years last past,
that I must now take some time pour me délasser, and lay in fuel
for a future work. In the meantime I should be glad if you would
set such a project on foot, for I know nobody else capable of suc-
ceeding in it, and turning it to the good of mankind, since my
friend has laid it down, Lam in a thousand troubles for poor

JOSEPH ADDISON. 225

Dick, and wish that his zeal for the public may not be ruinous to
himself; but he has sent me word that he is determined to go on,
and that any advice I may give him in this particular, will have
no weight with him. sae
I beg you will present my most sincere respects to Sir Richard
Blackmore, and that you will add my sister’s who is now with me,
and very much his humble servant. I wish I could see him and
yourself in these parts, where I think of staying a month or two
longer. Iam always with the greatest truth and esteem &c.

MR. HUGHES TO MR. ADDISON.
7 Deet5,. 1718,
Dear sir—I designed long ago to have acknowledged the favor
of your kind letter, and at the same time to have acquainted you
that I had laid aside all thoughts of the design mentioned to you
in my last. I had indeed been prompted to it by our very worthy
friend Sir Richard Blackmore, who is apt to think as you do, much
too partially of my poor abilities. But when I perceived you were
tired with an entertainment you had so long given the town, with
much better success than I could ever propose, I could not per-
suade myself to engage as a principal in an undertaking in which
I was only willing to have been an assistant. Sir Richard was,
however, of opinion, that such a design ought not to be dropped,
and therefore determined to make the experiment, which he be-
lieved might turn to the public good: and by his commission I
send you the papers which have been hitherto published... ....
You may believe when this design was once set on foot, I could
not be wholly unconcerned; I must therefore desire your indul-
gence to the third, sixth and ninth papers; and the rest I am sure
will entertain you very well, &c.

This paper, under the title of the Lay Monastery, dragged on
an obscure existence to the fortieth number, when the neglect of
the world convinced the worthy knight and his respectable associ-
ate, that it was not given to them to bend the bow of Ulysses.

Addison himself, after the completion of the additional volume
of the Spectator, rested from any similar exercise of his powers,
till the cause of his king and country roused him to the composi-
tion of his Freeholder. Meanwhile, the distracted state of public
affairs,—the coming crisis;—and the perils which seemed to
threaten the leaders and the principles to which he had evinced

15.

226 THE LIFE OF

in all fortunes an unwavering attachment, offered abundant occu-
pation for his anxious thoughts. sents
It had for some time been manifest to all who approached the
court, that the constitution of the queen was broken, and the
termination of her life approaching. Whether on this event the
act of succession would be sustained, and the Protestant heir
allowed to seat himself peaceably on her throne, was the moment-
ous question which forced itself on every thinking mind, and
the answer to which many circumstances appeared to render
doubtful. The noisy and numerous high church party, by which
the cause of Sacheverel had been so factiously avowed, seemed
pledged, in all consistency, to the divine, indefeasible right of the
lineal heir. The queen herself was believed to favor underhand
the cause of her brother; and her Tory ministry unanimous in
nothing else, was so at least m omitting no occasion of casting
obloquy and reproach on revolution-principles, enforced by the
expulsion of those who professed them from all offices, civil and
military. It was then strongly suspected, and now stands on
proof, that the same statesmen, who, in the treaty of Utrecht, had
betrayed the interests of their country to France, had also em-
barked in a secret plot to surrender up her liberties, civil and
religious, toa popish successor. As a kind of earnest of their
intentions, they had quashed many prosecutions against Scotch
Jacobites, suffered a number of outlawed partisans to return, and
connived at the arrival of many Romish priests and Jesuits. En-
couraged by these tokens of favor, the friends of the Stuarts,
both.in. England and Scotland, had begun to throw off all dis-
guise; the Pretender’s birthday was openly celebrated in many
places, and even levies of men were made expressly for his service.
On the other hand, these indications of danger were carefully
watched by the leaders of the Whigs, and promptly met by mea-
sures of counteraction well fitted to rouse the spirit of a free and
Protestant people.’ Addison’s chief patrons, Halifax, Wharton and’
Sunderland, supported by Somers,—though now, from increasing
infirmity, little more than the shadow of a great name,—here
particularly distinguished themselves. They brought forward
and carried in the House of Peers, which was their stronghold,
vigorous resolutions. against ‘the adherents of the Pretender, and
especially against their audacious enlistments. They brought in,
and carried by a majority of one, a bill making all active mea-
surés against the Protestant succession high treason. _ They opened
a correspondence with the Duke of Marlborough, who had retired
to the continent on his disgrace, and maintained a close connec-

JOSEPH ADDISON. 227

tion with the Hanoverian minister in London. Their influence
extended also to the House of Commons, in which, notwithstand-
- Ing the strong Tory influences under which it had been chosen,
the ministers were compelled to yield on some trying questions,
and carried others with difficulty, by small and diminishing ma-
jorities. In this perplexity the lord treasurer, Oxford, made some
attempts towards conciliating the Whigs, while the secretary,
Bolingbroke, treated them with open defiance, Violent quarrels
broke out between these rival statesmen, in spite of the earnest
mediation of Swift, who saw in their dissensions the inevitable
ruin of the party. As usual in civil contentions, treachery and
tergiversation were prevalent on all sides; and so many discoveries
were daily made of promises of adherence secretly pledged by
men of rank and consequence to both competitors for the succes-
sion, that neither could judge on what persons or on what num-
bers he might safely calculate in the day of trial. This uncer-
tainty, however, was not fitted to tell equally against both parties.
Tn supporting a king de facto, reigning by the authority of the
legislature, men knew that they were safe in all events; while
nothing less than a moral certainty of success could redeem from
the imputation of the last degree of rashness, an early appear-
ance in the treasonable cause of a proscribed and disinherited
‘exile. !
At length the impetuous Bolingbroke gained the object nearest
to his heart. He succeeded in compelling the queen to demand
back from his hated colleague, Oxford, the treasurer’s staff. But
he had reason to repent his ‘‘granted prayer.’’ The furious
altercation which these chosen servants of the crown had been
withheld, neither by respect to royal dignity, by the feelings of
gentlemen, nor by common humanity, from carrying on in the
presence of their almost dying sovereign, had shaken too rudely
the “outhasting sands.”’ “I shall never recover it!” faintly ut-
tered the queen, as she was carried out from the council-chamber ;
and taking to her bed she sunk into a lethargy which proved fatal
on the fourth day, being the first of August.

This precipitation of the final stroke was fatal to all the hopes
of the Jacobites. None of their preparations were completed;
no nucleus of rebellion was formed, and they lacked means for
‘counteracting the wise and vigorous measures of precaution taken
by a full council. Immediately on the event this body assembled,
the proclamation of George I. was ordered, and passed without a
murmur. Lords Justices were appointed in conformity with a
list which lay ready signed by the absent prince; and their first

228 THE LIFE OF

~

act on assembling was:to name Addison their secretary. Boling-
broke, meanwhile, who had repaired to the council with his bag
and papers, was kept standing at the door, suffering the severest
mortifications. Soon after he was deprived of the seals and his
papers secured.
It is probable that the urgency of public affairs must have sum-
moned Addison from his favorite country retirement shortly after
the date of his letter to Hughes above cited. Some of his politi-
cal pieces seem to have been written about this time, and he was
doubtless admitted to many close consultations of the Whigs; be-
sides attending regularly as a member of the Kitcat club, the
mandates of which body we have seen him bearing to Steele, in
reference to his defence. In the session of parliament which
commenced in February, he was a steady and constant, though
silent supporter of the constitutional cause. It was at the sugges-
tion of Lord Halifax, who long had known his public virtue, that
the lords justices, of whom this celebrated statesman was one,
named him their secretary; and a stronger testimony of esteem
and reliance could not well have been given, the time and all the
circumstances considered. We have good evidence that he was
found in all respects equal to his trust, yet a foolish tale has gained
currency on this occasion which is to the following effect: That
being required, as the duty of his office, to indite a letter to the
court of Hanover announcing the demise of the Queen, he was
so overpowered by his sense of the importance of the event as to
be unable to find words in which to convey it; and that a clerk
in the office was called in to supply his deficiency, who wrote it
with ease in the common official forms, and thence took occasion
to boast ever after that he had performed what was too hard for
Addison. It will surely be allowed, that considering the habits of
business which this distinguished person must have acquired in
the posts of under secretary of state, and principal secretary for
Ireland, considering too the peculiarly confidential relations in
which he had Jong stood to this very court of Hanover,—and tak-
ing also into account his eminent good sense and excellent taste,
which must have forbidden any attempt at a display of fine writ-
ing on so unsuitable an occasion,—such a fit of nervous incapacity
is totally incredible. We know moreover that the Earl of Dorset
was expressly appointed by the council to carry the intelligence
of his accession to the new sovereign ; and it may well be true,
that a clerk was directed to prepare in the common form a creden-
tial letter to be delivered by his lordship; not because the secre-
tary was incapable of performing such a task, but because affairs

JOSEPH ADDISON. 229:

of a far more delicate and confidential nature required his atten-
tion.

This appointment, however honorable, was in its nature but
provisional. It was terminated, together with the functions of the
lords justices themselves, by the arrival of King George in his
capital on the 17th of September.

In his “Memorial to the King,” Addison gives the following

summary of his official labors,—and of their emoluments.
' «That upon y® Queen’s demise, without any previous solicita-
tion, your Mem* was, in that critical conjuncture, appointed Sec’.
to y* Regency—That during this very troublesome office, he was
ordered by y® then L* Regent to draw up a preamble to y*® Prince
of Wales’s Patent, for which there was no gratuity allotted him.

«That he received no Fee, Salary, Reward or Perquisite what-
soever for this his service to y* Regency, notwithstanding he was
at considerable charge in keeping clerks and other expenses that
accompanied his attendance in that Office, and notwithstanding
y® incredible Fatigue of the Office very much impaired his health,
and w' have endangered his Life, had he continued much longer
in it.

“That y* Lords of y* Regency, upon y® determining this Office,
declared unanimously that they were highly satisfied with the
Diligence and Fidelity of their Sec’. and that upon their first at-
tendance upon Your Majesty, they would with one voice recom-
mend him to your Royal Favor, for a Mark of your Majesty’s
Bounty.”

Two letters addressed officially by Addison to the Hanoverian
secretary of state, here claim admission as no unfavorable speci-
mens of his business style.

MR. ADDISON TO MONS, DE ROBETHON.
St. James’s, Sept. 4, 1714.

Sir—lI have been obliged to so close an attendance on the lords
justices, and have had so very little time at my own disposal,
during my absence from their Excellencies, that I could not do
myself the honor, before now, to assure you of my respects, and
to beg the continuance of that friendship which you formerly
honored me with at Hanover. I cannot but extremely rejoice at
the occasion which will give me an opportunity of waiting on you
in England, where you will find a whole nation in the highest
joy, and thoroughly sensible of the great blessings which they
promise themselves from his Majesty’s accession to the throne.

230° THE LIFE OF

I take the liberty to send you, inclosed, a poem written on this
occasion, by one of our most eminent hands, which is indeed a
master-piece in its kind; and though very short, has touched upon
all the topics that are most popular among us. I have likewise
transmitted to you a copy of the preamble to the Prince of Wales’s
patent, which was a very grateful task imposed on me by the lords
justices. Their Excellencies have ordered that the lords and
others who meet his Majesty be out of mourning that day, as also
their coaches, but all servants, except those of the city magistrates,
to be in mourning. The shortness of the time, which would not
be sufficient for the making of new liveries, occasioned this last
order. The removal of the lord Bolingbroke has put a seasonable
check to an interest that was making in many places for members
in the next parliament, and was very much relished by the people,
who ascribe to him in a great measure the decay of trade and
public credit. You will do me a very great honor, if you can
find terms submissive enough to make the humble offer of my duty
acceptable to his Majesty. May God Almighty preserve his per-
son, and continue him for many years the blessing of these king-
doms! I am, with great esteem and respect, Sir, Your most
obedient, and most humble servant,
J. Appison.

[From ‘Original Papers, etc.; published by James Macpherson, Esq.’
London, 1775, 4to. vol. 2, p. 652.]

The poem referred to was, in all probability, a production of
one whom Addison let slip no opportunity to praise and serve.
Tickell’s Royal Progress is commended too in the last volume
of the Spectator, and may fairly claim, by the justness of the
thoughts and the graceful and poetical turn of the expression, a
high place among occasional poems. It could have contributed
little, however, to the pleasure or entertainment either of the
German king or probably of his French secretary.

MR. ADDISON TO MONS. DE ROBETHON.

St. James’s, Sept. 11, 1714,
Sir—Though I am not without hopes of seeing you in Eng-
land, before this letter comes to your hands, I cannot defer return-
ing you my thanks for the honor of yours of the 17th, N. S.,
which I received this morning. 1 beg leave to send you the
enclosed ceremonial for the king’s entry, published by the Earl
of Suffolk, Deputy Earl Mareshal, and regulated by the lords

rs," ~

JOSEPH ADDISON. 231
justices and privy council. The attorney general is preparing a
proclamation, reciting the rewards set on the Pretender by the
late queen and Parliament, with the security for the payment, as
established by a clause of an act passed since his majesty’s ac-
cession to the throne. As such a proclamation is very requisite,
so, perhaps, it may come with a good grace from the regents,
before his majesty’s arrival. It will, I believe, be fixed up in all
the market towns, especially among the Highlands in Scotland,
where there have been some meetings; but, by the care of the
tegents, of no consequence.
I am, with great esteem and respect, sir, your most obedient
and most humble servant,

J. AppDISON.

This letter will be delivered to you by Mr. Greenwood, who
will acquaint you how highly sensible I am of the honor of your
friendship.

[From “ Original Papers, etc.; by James Macpherson, Esq.’? London, 1775,
Ato. vol. 2, p. 653.—Literaltim.]

Among the earliest appointments made by the king on his
arrival, was that of the Earl of Sunderland to succeed the Duke
of Shrewsbury as lord-lieutenant of Ireland.. The earl, anxious
again to avail himself of the services of his former second in the
secretary of state’s office, immediately offered to Addison the post
of his chief secretary. In his present circumstances the employ-
ment was probably a welcome resource, and he quickly prepared
to revisit the sister island in this important capacity. But here
also he was fated to incur pecuniary disappointment, thus stated
in his “Memorial.’’ “That the Memorialist’s profits as Sec’,
under my, L*. Sunderland have fallen very much short of what
might have been expected from that Office, and (contrary to y°
Profits of all other y° like Offices in this first happy year of your
Majesty’s reign) have amounted to no more than they usually are
in any common year, by reason of his Lordship’s absence from
that kingdom, and his not being qualified to give out military
commissions.”

The Earl of Sunderland, during the whole time that he held
the vice-regal dignity,—that is, from October. 1714, to the August
following,—remained in England, dissatisfied with the appoint-
ment assigned him, and unwilling to quit the centre of political
motion. It is clear also from the correspondence addressed to his
secretary during the same time, that he too was partly resident in

232 THE LIFE OF
London during this period. Yet that he visited Ireland, appears

from the circumstance, mentioned in the Life of Tickell: that

Addison took him over to Dublin this year to initiate him in

public business. It'is likewise proved by a striking anecdote.

Swift, it will be recollected, had early attached himself to the
Tory ministry of the four last years of Queen Anne, which he
had served by a pen unrivaled indeed in vigor, but also in acri-
mony; and skilled in the worst arts of party pamphleteering.
That he had rendered himself signally obnoxious to all the Whig
leaders, followed as a necessary consequence. Whether he had
given any peculiar ground of offence to Lord Sunderland does
not appear; but we are told that the lord-lieutenant, before his
secretary’s departure for Ireland, endeavored to exact from him
a promise that he would not see the Dean of St. Patrick’s. Ad-
dison, however, with a spirit that did him honor, absolutely re-
fused to suffer his independence of action to be thus encroached
upon, or to give up an intercourse which he valued.

The incident is the more remarkable, because we cannot doubt
that Swift’s inveteracy against Steele must have greatly offended
his friend; and it is almost impossible that any connection could
have been kept up between them for a considerable time before
Swift had last broken away from London, on finding the dissen-
sions between Oxford and Bolingbroke irreconcilable. But the
fierce contest was at an end; the Protestant succession had pre-
vailed without even a murmur; the Tories were laid low; and
Swift had hurried from the scene to bury in an almost savage
solitude the pangs of vain regrets and disappointed hopes. ‘The
generous and gentle nature of Addison, incapable of long resent-
ments, felt for the tortures of a proud and ambitious spirit cast
back into obscurity,—of a bright wit separated for ever from the
congenial group of statesmen, poets, brother wits in which he had
shone, or almost reigned, without an equal,—he felt for the man
with whom he had long exchanged the sacred name of friend,—
and he would not abandon him. Some time before the termination
of Lord Sunderland’s [rish administration, a person having been .
arrested with treasonable correspondence upon him, a part of which
was addressed to Swift, the Dean had judged it prudent to con-
ceal- himself awhile; a circumstance which must have cut off all
intercourse between him and the inmate of the Castle; yet there
is reason to believe that they had some social meetings during the
term of Addison’s secretaryship, and the correspondence hereafter
to be produced affords convincing proof that their friendship en-
dured as long as his life.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 233

Dr. King, Archbishop of Dublin, to whom he had taken an in-
troduction from Swift on his first official visit to Ireland, was at
this time a frequent correspondent of Addison’s; and from his
letters, never before published, a few extracts will here be read
with interest. This eminent prelate and very worthy man, now
descending into the vale of years, had distinguished himself in
various characters. As a churchman he was known first by the
zeal and courage with which he had braved imprisonment, and
much personal danger, in defending the Protestant cause against
the arbitrary measures of James II. in Ireland, and since, by his
strenuous though unsuccessful efforts for the conversion of the Pres-
byterians of that country to the Episcopalian discipline :—As a
politician, he had shown himself the able and steady supporter of
Whig principles; and he had established, both at home and abroad,
the reputation of a deep scholar and able metaphysician, by an
elaborate work on the Origin of Evil, which had engaged him in
an animated controversy with Bayle. His favorable testimony to
the public merits of the Marquis of Wharton is a remarkable one,
and perhaps the most honorable that he has received ;—for this
prelate was constantly active in the affairs of his country, and had
the reputation of understanding them well.

THE ARCHBISHOP OF DUBLIN TO MR. ADDISON.
Dublin, April 23. 1715,

Sir,—I had the favor of yours of the 12th inst. and the same
packet brought us the account of my Lord Wharton’s death ; of
whom I will say no more than that he has made a figure in the
world to my remembrance about forty years, and always appeared
in his country’s interest, and so acted as became a true patriot, and
I very much fear he will be missed at this juncture......

I am heartly sorry for my Lord Lieutenant’s indisposition; the
Tories have represented him as past hopes of recovery, the Arch-
bishop of Canterbury as dead, and Duke of Marlborough to be in
a very declining condition,—they reckon that if they can rid them-
selves of the heads of the Court party, they may have some chance
to succeed in their places.

You'll give me leave to smile at your apology for writing in
a hurry; I take it in very good part, who need so much for my
slovenly way of writing, tho’ I should be glad that were the worst
fault in my letters; pray take the honest meaning of them, and I
promise you that I will never criticise any thing in yours.

‘¢ Hanc veniam dabimus petimusque vicissim.’?

234 THE LIFE OF

ea SSSSESEEEEARppEE~E>~R™LRHUEUEL€L°U°L€L°\YY\hDDTOOTOSOrrvrvrvrvrlo };]F, OOO

THE ARCHBISHOP OF DUBLIN TO MR. ADDISON.

Dublin, July 30. 1715.

I chid Mr. Budgell for not sending you the money for secret
service. Ido not wonder at the temptations you meet with. I
believe few are proof against them, but your virtue that way is so
well known, that I am confident as it turns to your honor now, it
will one day repay you with double profit. I assure you I hope
to see it, and it will be of infinite satisfaction to me.

THE ARCHBISHOP OF DUBLIN TO MR. ADDISON.

; Dublin, Aug. 25, 1715,

Sir,—I have very much revolved in my mind the hints you
were so kind as to give me concerning settling the government
here, and still I find all persons averse to Commissioners, and
mighty desirous to have a Lord Lieutenant. We are not altogether
out of hopes that his Excellency my Lord Sunderland may yet be
able to do us the favor, but if that can’t be, I am of opinion my
Lord Pembroke may be a proper and acceptable person; he was
very well liked by the Kingdom when he was here, governed it
without noise or faction, insomuch that he did every thing without
struggle or opposition; he was diligent and assiduous in his busi-
ness, acted steadily, and by regular methods, which gave great
content. I believe he is hearty in his Majesty’s interest, and
seemed to have the good of the people at heart. If it should
please his Majesty to send him, think it would be grateful to the
Kingdom, I hope for your own interest, and would wonderfully
please. Iam, sir &c.

On the appointment of the Duke of Grafton to the government
of Ireland, assisted by Lord Galway, the archbishop expresses
himself to his correspondent thus.

THE ARCHBISHOP OF DUBLIN TO MR. ADDISON.

Dublin, Aug. 30, 1715,
Sir—I was favored with yours of the 20th inst. The news in
it I find is come to many hands in town, and I do not find that
it pleased any. I wish it may succeed to the serving his ma-
jesty’s interest and the good of the kingdom. I confess I am not

JOSEPH ADDISON. 235
without apprehensions that it may occasion some difficulties. I
pray and hope I may be mistaken. ney

There is, amongst other circumstances, one, I assure you, very
grievous to everybody, and ’tis that we shall not have your assist-
ance here. Believe me this is a real truth and no compliment.
......T should be unjust if I forgot the acknowledgments due
to you for your care and zeal in all the aflairs relating to this
kingdom, particularly your regard tome.......

This kingdom is very unfortunate in its frequent change of
governors, for before we are well acquainted with one, he is
removed, and everybody obliged to begin his business anew, and
make a new interest. I rarely have had any in our chief govern-
ors, and after so great a disappointment as I have met with in his
Excellency’s declining this post, I fancy I shall not be very fond
of any successor’s favor. You’ll excuse me that condoling my
own circumstances | may say ’tis the kingdom’s case as well as
mine, and you’ll allow me to be a little chagrined on so extraordi-
nary an occasion.

But whatever happen, you'll believe me with all sincerity &c.*

_ Letters like these, which express with such an artless sincerity
the esteem and confidence of a character like Archbishop King,
must have been felt by Addison as testimonials equally honorable
to him in his official and his private capacity, and were doubtless
preserved by him on this account. Of the known integrity
ascribed to him in general terms by the prelate, a concurrent and
more pointed evidence appears to exist in two letters by another
hand, now to be produced. How they were obtained for publica-
tion is not mentioned; they were first printed in some compilation
of Curll’s, and are stated to have been written by Addison after
refusing first a bank bill of 300/., and afterwards a diamond ring
of the like value, offered by a Major Dunbar for his good offices
with the lord lieutenant in some suit, the nature of which does

not appear.

MR. ADDISON TO MAJOR DUNBAR.
Jan. 26, 1715.

Sir,—I find there is a very strong opposition formed against
you; but I shall wait on my lord lieutenant this morning, and lay
your case before him as advantageously as [ can, if he is not

RAR PEDDIE

tte a en ao ean gone te

ey

* From the originals in the possession of Mr. Tickell.

236 THE LIFE OF

engaged in other company. I am afraid what you say of his
grace does not portend you any good. ‘oe

And now sir, believe me when I assure you that I never did,
nor ever will, on any pretence whatsoever, take more than the
stated and customary fees of my office. I might keep the con-
trary practice concealed from the world, were | capable of it, but
I could not from myself; and I hope I shall always fear the
reproaches of my own heart more than those of all mankind. In
the meantime, if I can serve a gentleman of merit, and sucha
character as you bear in the world, the satisfaction [ meet with
on such an occasion is always a sufficient, and the only reward to
sir, &c.

MR. ADDISON TO MAJOR DUNBAR.

1715,
Sir,—I this morning urged to my lord lieutenant everything
which you suggest in your letter, and what else came into m
thoughts. He told me it stopped with the secretary, and that he
would still see what could be done in it. I spoke to Sir William
Saint Quintin to remove all difficulties with the secretary, and
will again plead your cause with the secretary to-morrow morn-
ing. If you send me word where I may wait on you about eleven
o’clock in some bye coffee-house, I will inform you of the result.
of this matter, if I find my Lord Sunderland at home, and will
convince you that [ was in earnest when I wrote to you before, by
showing myself your most disinterested humble servant.

Of the genuineness of these letters the reader will form his own »
opinion; but some difficulties which appear on a careful perusal,
ought in fairness to be stated. The dating of the first is suspi-
cious: Addison would have written January, 1714-5 according to
the invariable practice of his time. The active exertions pro-
mised in behalf of a person,—a stranger apparently,—from whom
he had just refused a bribe, and still more the offer of meeting
him at a bye coffee-house, are great inconsistencies.

The promise to call on the lord lieutenant and mention the
business if he should not be engaged in other company, or should
be at home, are not suited to the character of a secretary, who
must necessarily have done business with his principal at stated
hours. Above all, it is impossible to conceive by what “ secre-
tary’? the business could be obstructed, since Addison himself
was the principal secretary for Ireland, and any business in which

JOSEPH ADDISON. 237

ee

he had refused to take more than his regular fees must of course
have been in his department. taht:

It may be added, that there is an awkwardness in the style of
the letters never found in any authenticated writing of Addison’s,
whatever might be its nature. :

His biographer may afford to part with any dubious evidence
in favor of integrity which has never been called in question.

A more palpable fiction of the same kind, which may here be
mentioned, is a letter to a lady, published in Rede’s Anecdotes.
It purports to have been written by Addison, and addressed to a
lady who while single had rejected his honorable proposals,
but after marriage, repenting of her cruelty to a suitor who had
since rendered his naine so celebrated, had written to offer him a
private meeting. He is made to decline the favor, or repel the
temptation, in a long argumentative discourse which might have
been indited by Richardson in the character of Sir Charles
Grandison, the pedagogue of morality. We are not informed
whether it was the gentleman or the lady by whom this pre-
cious composition was given to the world, and it would be diffi-
cult to say which of them the act would most misbecome. It is,
after all, no slight indication of the weight attached to a name in
general estimation, to find it employed as the instrument of edify-
ing frauds.

Less glorious doubtless than these imputed instances of self-
command, but more worthy of record, as a characteristic trait of
no doubtful authority, is a particular which was related by
Swift: That Addison made it a rule never to remit in favor of
his friends the regular fees of his office ; for, said he, my dues
are perhaps two guineas, and I may have thirty friends; thus I
shall lose sixty guineas, and each of them will save no more than
two.

A strictness of this kind, it may be safely maintained, has in it
nothing incompatible with true generosity on proper occasions,
and it is likely to be connected with that spirit of order and pru-
dent economy than which there is no surer safeguard of integrity
in places of public trust.

This busy period of the life of Addison was likewise the date
of the appearance of a drama, Addison’s claims to which are
still a matter of some uncertainty. Early in the season, a comedy
called the Drummer was produced at Drury Lane theatre, of
which Steele had recently become patentee. It was coldly re-
ceived, although it is said to have been « exquisitely acted ;’’ but
Steele believing it, from the delicacy of its strokes of humor,

238 THE LIFE OF

ea KS
better fitted for the closet than the stage, published it soon after
with a laudatory preface. No hint of the author was given to
the public, but Tonson paid what was thought the high price of
50 guineas for the copy-right, under the impression that it was
by Addison, after whose death Steele appears to have made him
a direct assertion to that effect. When therefore this comedy
was found to be omitted in Tickell’s posthumous edition of Addi-
son’s works, Tonson complained of having been imposed upon by
Steele, who made his defence in that letter to Congreve, already
cited, which he printed as an introduction to a second edition of
the Drummer. In this piece, after making the general assertion
that “no one who reads the preface which I published with it
will imagine I could be induced to say so much as I then did,
had I not known the man I best loved had had a part in it, or
had I believed that any other concerned had much more to do
with it than as an amanuensis,’’—he proceeds to defend this
judgment on the ground of internal evidence, affirming that had
he known nothing of the circumstances, he should have seen
the humor of his friend in every page of it. Then, after digres-
sing to some ill-founded censures of ickell’s account of the
author’s delays in the completion of Cato, he thus proceeds: * If
I remember right, the fifth act was written in less than a week’s
time ; for this was particular in this writer, that when he had
taken his resolution, or made his plan for what he designed to
write, he would walk about the room, and dictate it into language
with as much freedom and ease as any one could write it down,
and attend to the coherence and grammar of what he dictated.
I have been often thus employed by him; and never took it into
my head, though he only spoke it, and I took all the pains of
throwing it upon paper, that I ought to call myself the writer of
it. I will put all my credit among men of wit for the truth of
my averment when I presume to say, that no one but Mr. Addi-
son was in any other way the writer of the Drummer; at the
same time I will allow that he sent for me, which he could
always do, from his natural power over me, as much as he could
for any of his clerks when he was Secretary of State ; and told
me, ‘that a gentleman then in the room had written a play, that
he was sure I would like; but it was to be a secret and he knew
I would take as much pains, since he recommended it, as I would
for him.’’”? ‘This, it will be observed, is no very cogent assertion
of Addison’s claim to the piece; but we have in corroboration
both the plot, which has a striking point of resemblance with that
of Rosamond,—there being in each a husband who visits his

JOSEPH ADDISON. 239
wife when she believes herself his widow,—and the style, in the
humorous scenes, which bears strong marks of Addison. What
is still more conclusive, ‘Theobald has recorded, that he himself
told him, that he had taken the character of Vellum from the
steward in Fletcher’s Scornful Lady,—to which the similarity is
very conspicuous. It might indeed be a joint work; but the total
silence of Tickell on the subject during his life, and the fact that
no hint to this effect exists among his papers, or in the traditions of
his descendants, seems to award the authorship to Addison solely.

That the play contains amusing scenes will not be disputed;
but on the whole it is neither highly entertaining nor is it well
constructed, the plot being in its nature too farcical to accord with
the sentimental interest attempted to be thrown around the prin-
cipal characters. ‘Tinsel too is a caricature more disgusting than
comic. ‘he genius of comedy is neither wit, nor humor, nor
knowledge of character and manners, nor the power of represent-
ing them, but something additional to all these and distinct from
them;—something which neither Addison, nor in general, the
ablest novel-writers have possessed; and whether it was by his
own direction, as is most probable, or by the authority of his ex-
ecutor only, that the Drummer was excluded from his works, it
was done in the exercise of a sounder discretion than Steele’s
republication of the unsuccessful piece.

CHAPTER XIII.
1716 to 1718.

Addison?s Irish Secretaryship ended. Rebellion of 1715. Addison employed
to write the Freeholder. Accountofthe work. Rewarded with commission-
ership of trade and colonies. Marries the Countess Dowager of Warwick.
Accounts of his courtship. Reasons for doubting them. Welstead’s lines to
Lady Warwick. Addison’s Lines to Kneller. Halifax without power to ad-
vance him. Death of Halifax. Lord Sunderland, Secretary of State, appoints
Addison Joint Secretary. His qualifications for business. | Official Letters to
the Lords Justices of Ireland. To Mr. Davenant. To the Earl of Peterbo-
rough. Answer of the Earl. To the Duchess of St. Albans. Minutes of
official letters. Mr. Temple Stanyan. Anecdote of Addison. Embassy to
‘the Porte. Mr. Wortley Montagu. Letter of Addison to him. Letter of
Archbishop King. Of Mr. Budgell. Of Mr. Gibson to Mr. Tickell. Of the
Archbishop of Canterbury to Mr. Addison, Lawrence Echard. Sickness of
Addison. Latin Lines of Vincent Bourne. Addison’s Letter of Resignation,

‘Tun Earl of Sunderland resigned the viceroyalty of Ireland in
August 1716—ten months only from his appointment ; thus bring-

240 THE LIFE OF

ing the secretaryship of Addison to an abrupt and untimely end;
but scarcely had this circumstance taken place, when an event of
an alarming character gave occasion to a fresh demand upon his
public services. -This was no other than the rebellion in favor of
the Chevalier, the son of the deceased James II. which broke out
in Scotland and the North of England in September 1715. It
was speedily suppressed, for the Highland broadswords were un-
able long to cope with the regular force of the country when fairly
mustered; and a more formidable plan of insurrection in the West
of England had been disconcerted by the timely precautions of
the government. It also plainly appeared, that when put to the
proof, the English jacobites were little disposed to risk their estates
and lives for the title of that king whom they toasted with noisy
bravado over their flowing bowls. The Chevalier, whose arrival
was delayed till all reasonable hope had vanished, was obliged to’
reimbark with precipitation early in the month of February 1716.
In the meantime, however, the fact of such a competitor openly
assuming the regal title within the ancient kingdom of his ances-
tors, issuing proclamations, and appointing a day for his corona-
tion at Scone,—could not be viewed without anxiety by the
ministry of George I., or by any sincere friend to the Protestant
succession.

Even after the complete dispersion of the rebels, the flight or
capture of their leaders, and the disappearance of their pageant
monarch, the party was known still to possess a kind of hidden
strength which was by no means to be neglected. Almost the
whole of the Tory and high church interest, in disgust at the ex-
clusion of its chiefs from that political ascendency which it haugh-
tily claimed as a kind of right, was at least talking jacobitism and
treason very openly; many were still plotting in its favor, and a
tempting opportunity might on a sudden change words into deeds.
Under such circumstances, it was incumbent on the government,
among other means of defence, to make it evident that the cause
sanctioned by the laws and victorious in the combat, was equally
able to assert itself in the fair field of argument; and for this im-
portant enterprise, Addison was the selected champion.

Such was the origin of a work, in some respects the most con-
siderable of its author, and bearing throughout the inimitable stamp
of his best manner. Its form was the same under which he had
already conveyed to his cotemporaries so much of instruction and
delight; that of detached papers appearing periodically ; but un-
like the Tatler and its successors, it was avowedly the production
of a single author, calling himself a Freeholder; it contained no

ae

JOSEPH ADDISON. 241

~~

letters to the editor, whether real or fictitious, and the purpose was

entirely and professedly political. The numbers appeared twice

only in the week, and the publication took place between De-

oe 23, 1715, and June 29, 1716; thus the papers are fifty-
ve.

Steele, moved perhaps by a secret feeling of mortification that
he had not himself been appointed to take up the gauntlet in a
cause for which, as he boasted, he was the only man who had
done “all that he could,” criticised the selection of his friend.
Government, he said, had “made choice of a flute when they ought
to have taken a trumpet.’’ But cooler and wiser heads were
aware that the trumpet had nearly done its office, and that it would
soon be time to let a softer voice be heard, applying itself to lull
what were called by Addison, “the after-tossings of a sea when
the storm is laid.’ For this office who else could be so well fit-
ted? Who was there so excellently skilled in those gentle and
graceful, and amusing arts by which reason,—the greatest of all
tranquilizers,—may be successfully insinuated into the most pre-
judiced and angry bosoms?

In the concluding paper he has thus explained both the method
and the spirit in which he had performed his task. ‘+I have en-
deavored to make every paper a distinct essay upon some par-
ticular subject, without deviating into points foreign to the tenor
of each discourse. ‘They are indeed most of them essays upon
government, but with a view to the present situation of affairs in
Great Britain ; so that if they have the good fortune to live longer
than works of this nature generally do, future readers may see in
them the complexion of the times in which they were written.

“As to the reasonings in these several papers, I must leave
them to the judgment of others. I have taken particular care
that they should be conformable to our constitution, and free from
the mixture of violence and passion which so often creeps into
the works of political writers. A good cause doth not want any
bitterness to support it, as a bad one cannot subsist without it. It
is indeed observable that an author is scurrilous in proportion as
he is dull, and seems rather to be in a passion because he cannot
find out what to say for his own opinion, than because he has dis-
covered any pernicious absurdities in those of his antagonists. A
man satirized by writers of this class, is like one burnt in the
hand with a cold iron. There may be ignominious terms and.
words of infamy in the stamp, but they leave no impression
behind them, aa

«It would indeed have been unpardonable insolence for a fel-

16

242 THE LIFE OF

low-subject to treat in a vindictive and cruel style, those persons
whom his majesty has endeavored to reduce to obedience by
gentle methods, which he has declared from the throne to be
most agreeable to his inclinations.”

The different topics conducive to the writer’s purpose are
handled in lucid order; and with great cogency, for the most
part, of argumentation; they prove how well the author knew
and appreciated the benefits of the free constitution of which he
had been all his life a faithful defender; but he had other, and
perhaps more powerful weapons at command, than those of pure
reason. His wit and humor, and the unrivaled felicity of his
similes and illustrations, appear nowhere to more advantage than
in the lighter papers with which he has varied his Freeholders;
and although here employed on the most captious subjects, such
is the mastery of his skill, that the edged-tools scarcely draw
blood. Even his Tory Foxhunter, that triumph of satirical de-
lineation, is saved, by his ultimate conversion to wiser and juster
opinions, from the unmitigated contempt and aversion with which
we should otherwise regard him. The exquisitely ludicrous
“Memoirs of a Preston rebel’? might be forgiven, even by one
of themselves, when all was over, in consideration of the supe-
riority of cowardice which it justly ascribes to the loyal train-
bands of Cumberland; and if the Annals of the Pretender gave
offence to his partisans, it must have been more from the aptness
than the severity of that admirable burlesque. The highly-
wrought allegory of the Temple of Rebellion covers serious
truths, which might be applied with benefit by all who had ap-
proached its perilous precincts.

.'The most extraordinary feature, however, and that which, as
its author indeed observes, distinguishes this from all other politi-
cal works, is, that a great part of it is addressed to the ladies.
Addison was so accustomed, according to the phrase of Swift, to
“fair sex it,’ that he could not long consider any subjects con-
nected with manners and the state of society and opinion, without
taking into his view the mode in which they affected the weaker
half of the species. Unfortunately the tone which he has here
chosen to assume, is more contemptuous, and more constantly that
of banter, than in any of his former sets of papers; and there
are coarse reflections occasionally thrown out which cannot be
read without serious displeasure. Yet it must be owned, that his
strokes against female rebels and petticoated politicians seldom
fail to tell. Thus he remarks, that the Whig ladies, “as they
daily do duty at court, are much more expert in the use of their

JOSEPH ADDISON. 243

airs and graces than their female antagonists, who are most of
them bred in the country. So that the sisterhood of loyalists, in
‘respect of the fair malcontents, are like an army of regular forces
compared with a raw undisciplined militia. It is to this misfor-
tune in their education that we may ascribe the rude and oppro-
brious language in which the disaffected part of the sex treat the
present royal family. A little lively rustic, who hath been trained
up in ignorance and prejudice, will prattle treason a whole win-
ter’s evening, and string together a parcel of silly seditious stories,
that are equally void of decency and truth.” And again:

“This sharp political humor has but lately prevailed in so
great a measure as it now does among the beautiful part of our
species, They used to employ themselves wholly in the scenes
of a domestic life, and provided a woman could keep her house
in order, she never troubled herself about regulating the common-
wealth. The eye of the mistress was wont to make her pewter
shine, and to inspect every part of her household furniture as
much as her looking-glass. But at present our discontented ma-
trons are so wholly conversant in matters of state, that they wholly
neglect their private affairs: for we may always observe, that a
gossip in politics is a slattern in her family.

“It is indeed a melancholy thing to see the disorders of a
household that is under the conduct of an angry stateswoman,
who lays out all her thoughts upon the public, and is only atten-
tive to find out miscarriages in the ministry. Several women of
this-turn are so earnest in contending for hereditary right, that
they wholly neglect the education of their own sons and heirs;
and are so taken up with their zeal for the Church, that they can-
not find time to teach their children the catechism.”

«A man is startled,” he observes, “‘when he sees a pretty
bosom heaving with such party rage as is disagreeable even in
that sex which is of a more coarse and rugged make. And yet
such is our misfortune that we sometimes see a pair of stays
ready to burst with sedition; and hear the most masculine pas-
sions expressed in the sweetest voices. I have lately been told
of a country gentlewoman pretty much famed for this virility of
behavior in party disputes, who, upon venting her notions pretty
freely in a strange place, was carried before an honest justice of
peace. This prudent magistrate, observing her to be a large
black woman, and finding by her discourse that she was no bet-
ter than a rebel in her riding-hood, began to suspect her for my
Lord Nithsdale, till a stranger came to her rescue, who assured
him, with tears in his eyes, that he was her husband.”

244 THE LIFE OF

Since the writer has informed us that “the complexion of the
times” might be hereafter judged of by these papers, we may
be allowed to infer from so many peevish jeers on female zeal,
that it was' at this crisis chiefly exerted against the reigning
family; and it would not be difficult to assign reasons why this
should have been the case. Romance and sentiment were sure
to take under their protection the young, disinherited, and unfor-
tunate royal adventurer.

The death of Lord Somers gave occasion to a very noble cha-
racter of this illustrious statesman, which occupies one number
of the Freeholder, In another, as has been already mentioned,
a recommendation of Pope’s translation of Homer, and Rowe’s
of Lucan, is with some violence introduced. The virtues and
graces of the Princess of Wales, afterwards Queen Caroline, are
celebrated with the highest degree of courtly elegance, and it
must be owned, with somewhat of courtly adulation. Eulogy on
George I. is likewise carried somewhat further perhaps than strict
justice would warrant. 1t must, however, be recollected that at
so critical a juncture it was undoubtedly the part of patriotism to
make strenuous efforts towards raising up, on behalf of a new and
foreign dynasty, that spirit of loyalty so aptly styled “the cheap
defence of nations.”

By means of those lively turns of thought and expression
which his imagination was ever ready to suggest, Addison has
raised one of his most brilliant papers on the unpromising theme
of the frequent changes made in the value of the French coins
by Louis XIV.;—a fiscal art or fraud, which it is intimated that
the Pretender might be expected to imitate, should he ever

achieve the British throne. A few of his sallies are the follow-
ing :—

“T shall not here consider the many evil consequences it must
have upon their trade, their exchange, and public credit. I shall
only take notice of the whimsical circumstances a people must
lie under, who can thus be made poor or rich by an edict, which
can throw an alloy into a Lowis d’or, and debase it into half its
former value, or, if his majesty pleases, raise the price of it, not
by the accession of metal, but of a mark..... This conveys a
kind of fairy treasure into their chests, even while they are under
lock and key; and is a secret of multiplication without addition.”

“One cannot but pity the melancholy condition of a miser in this
country, who is perpetually telling his livres without being able
to know how rich he is. He is as ridiculously puzzled and per-
plexed as a man that counts the stones on Salisbury plain, which

JOSEPH ADDISON. 245

PRIA

can never be settled to any certain number, but are more or fewer
every time he reckons them.”’

“The uncertainty of riches is a subject much discoursed of in
all countries, but may be insisted on more emphatically in France
than any other. A man is here under such a kind of situation
as one who is managed by a juggler. He fancies he has so many
pieces of money in his hand; but let him grasp them never so
carefully, upon a word or two of the artist they increase or dwindle
to what number the doctor is pleased to name.”’

Such then was the Freeholder; a work which no lover of the
genius of Addison will permit himself to pass over as obsolete.
If the interests which it was written to support were in some
degree temporary ones, the principles involved must be as lasting
as the British constitution, and the wit and humor are in their
nature immortal.

It was probably in reward of this fresh service that he received
the appointment of one of the Commissioners for Trade and Colo-
nies; a post of very considerable profit and little labor, but well
deserved by his former exertions.

In a different quarter, his diligence, seconded probably by his
improved circumstances, likewise found its recompense. On
August 2, 1716, he received the hand of Charlotte, Countess dowa-
ger of Warwick, daughter of Sir Thomas: Middleton of Chirk
Castle, Denbighshire, by a co-heiress of Sir Orlando Bridgeman,
and mother of the young lord whose education he seems to have
superintended. How long his attachment to this lady had pre-
viously subsisted, we have no precise information; but the futility
of Tonson’s notion, that he had formed the design of getting her
for his wife from the time of his first being, according to the
unworthy phrase of this bookseller, “ recommended into the
family,’ may be easily shown. His letters to the young Earl of
Warwick, already given, are dated in May, 1708; while that to
Mr. Wortley Montagu, in which he complains of having lost his
mistress, was written in the middle of the year 1711. It follows
that up to this time at least he could have entertained no thoughts
of the countess. There is probably little more of truth and justice
in the splenetic, and at the same time lax and careless account,
given by Johnson of this event; which deserves to be quoted
chiefly for reprehension. “This year he married the Countess
dowager of Warwick, whom he had solicited by a very long
and anxious courtship, perhaps with behavior not very unlike
that of Sir Roger to his disdainfal widow; and who, I am afraid,
diverted herself often by playing with his passion.’’ After here

246 THE LIFE OF

relating the idle guess of Tonson already mentioned, and profess-
ing ignorance when, or how, Addison had lived as tutor in the
Warwick family, the critic thus proceeds with guesses of his own. —
‘‘ His advances at first were certainly timorous, but grew bolder
as his reputation and influence increased ; till at last the lady was -
persuaded to. marry him, on terms much like those on which a
Turkish princess is espoused, to whom the Sultan is reported to
pronounce, ‘ Daughter, I give thee this man for thy slave.’ The
marriage, if uncontradicted report can be credited, made no addi-
tion to his happiness; it neither found them nor made them equal.
She always remembered her own rank, and thought herself enti-
tled to treat with very little ceremony the tutor of her son. Rowe’s
ballad of the Despairing Shepherd is said to have been written,
either before or after marriage, upon this memorable pair; and it
is certain that Addison has left behind him no encouragement for
ambitious love.” 4
We cannot but perceive here, that the nature and the length of
the courtship of Addison is described not from known facts, but
from a supposed resemblance to that of his own Sir Roger. It
would be much more plausible to conjecture, that the author of
certain too broad sarcasms on the state of widowhood contained in
the Freeholder, could not yet have been engaged in serious ad-
dresses toa lady of that condition. The assertion that he was
represented by Rowe as a despairing shepherd either before or
after marriage is much to be admired for its precision. Indeed
a Turkish princess might well be supposed to fill with deeper
despair a husband than a lover! But had this lady been accus-
tomed to think herself entitled to treat with little ceremony the
tutor of her son, it is surely by no means probable that on this
experience the tutor should ever have sought a nearer connection
with a woman whom he must have found so thoroughly unami-
able ; especially as her youth and bloom must by this time have
fled. How far the addresses of a man so celebrated, so welcomed
in the first society, occupying a seat in parliament and standin
fair for still higher offices in the state than he had yet filled,
deserved the epithet “ambitious,” with respect to a dowager
countess, herself of no very distinguished race, may admit a ques-
tion, Of the terms of pecuniary equality at least on which they
came together, we have proof in a passage of a cotemporary
letter: “Tell Lady Henrietta,’ says Dr. Cheyne, writing to Lord
Harley at Wimpole, “that Lady Warwick’s marriage with Mr.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 247
Addison was upon terms, he settling (or giving) 4000/. in lieu of
an estate which she gave up for his sake.’’*

It seems however that the conjugal unhappiness of Addison
stands on “ uncontradicted report.’ A kind of evidence, it may
be observed, which requires more than one condition to render it
of any value: In the first place, as contradictions seldom reach so
“far as the first calumnious assertion, the fact that none have been
given must be supported by more conclusive evidence than usually
helongs to a negative. Secondly, it must be proved that the re-
port which the parties concerned omitted to contradict had come
fully to their knowledge: Thirdly, it must be distinctly shown,
whether they passed it over in silence as owning its truth, or as
feeling and despising its malice and falsehood. A positive evi-
dence of Addison’s enduring esteem for his lady will appear
hereafter.

Welstead, a poet of some merit, addressed the countess on her
nuptials in lines which give not only a more pleasing, but proba-
bly a juster view of the sentiments which had influenced her
mind and directed her choice:

¢ A pomp you covet not to heralds known,
And sigh for virtues equal to your own;
Part in a man immortal greatly claim,
And frown on titles to ally with fame. -
Not Edward’s star embossed with silver rays
Can vie in glory with thy consort’s bays}
His Country’s Pride does homage to thy charms,
And every merit crowds into thy arms.”’

From the period of his marriage, Holland House, at Kensington,
was the principal residence of Addison, but he did not entirely
forsake his own favorite Bilton.

During the remainder of the year 1716, nothing is left to be
recorded excepting the production of his short poem to Kneller
on his portrait of the king,—that most ingenious of jeux-d’esprit
in which a parallel is run between the successive English sove-
reigns painted by this eminent artist, and the deities of Olympus
sculptured by the hand of Phidias. A portion of the piece may
here find a place, partly in corroboration of Dr. Johnson’s senti-
ment, that “if Addison had cultivated the lighter parts of poetry,
he would probably have excelled.’’ Here, the verse flows with
the ease of Prior, and the aptest rhymes come trooping as at the

call of Swift.

ene

* Original in the British Museum.

248 ‘THE LIFE OF

tN

‘¢ Great Pan who wont to chase the fair, -
And loved the spreading oak, was there ;
Old Saturn too with upcast eyes
Beheld his abdicated skies;

And mighty Mars for war renowned
In adamantine.armor frowned ;

By him the childless Goddess rose,
Minerva, studious to compose

Her twisted threads; the web she strung
And o’er aloom of marble hung:
Thetis, the troubled ocean’s queen,
Match’d with a mortal, next was seen,
Reclining on a funeral urn

Her darling short-liv’d son to mourn.
The last was he whose thunders slew
The Titan race, a rebel crew,

That from a hundred hills ally’d

In impious leagues their king defy’d.
This wonder of the artist’s hand
Produced, his art was at a stand.”? &c.

But these amusements of an involuntary leisure were about to
give way once more to the demands of public business. Lord
Halifax, as we collect from a narrative by Budgell, who was not
without means of information on the subject, had flattered himself,
on the accession of George I., with the, attainment of the dignity
of lord treasurer and the power of a prime minister. In this
event, he assured Addison, as they were proceeding together to
compliment the new sovereign on his arrival, that he would pro-
cure his appointment to the office of one of the principal secre-
taries of state, and he took pains to combat the objections raised
by his diffidence, and chiefly turning on his inability to speak in
the House of Commons. He also acquainted him that it was ex-
pressly with a view to this higher preferment, that he had caused
him to be named secretary to the lords justices. But these pre-
parations proved useless. Lord Halifax, though caressed at court
and gratified with an earldom, the place of first commissioner of
the treasury and other favors, was not made lord treasurer, neither
was he declared prime minister. That envied distinction fell to
the lot of Lord Townshend, on whom Addison had no claims; and
Halifax died the following year without having had it in his
power to serve him further. What his other distinguished patron
had done for him in the meantime, we have already seen; but
Sunderland also was a disappointed man at the commencement of
the reign; and even while holding the viceroyalty of Ireland was
in opposition to the minister and seeking his overthrow. At
length, partly through the influence which he had succeeded in
gaining over the mind of the king, partly through other causes,

JOSEPH ADDISON. 249

this object was effected; Lord Townshend received his dismissal
from the office of secretary of state, and in April, 1717, Lord
Sunderland having succeeded to this post made Addison his col-
league.

_ The inability of the new secretary to undertake the defence of
ministerial measures in the House of Commons was doubtless a
serious inconvenience; but this part might be supplied by others,
and it must have been therefore amore decided disqualification, if
such were the case, that he was slow and hesitating in the perform-
ance of the ordinary duties of his office. He was a better man of
business, some one has said, than Prior, but still a bad one. How
far even this is true, cannot now be known, but the reproach of
Pope, eagerly caught up as usual by Johnson, “that he could not
issue an order without losing his time in quest of fine expressions,”’
is certainly not borne out by his letters of business still extant.
These, as the reader will already have observed, are clear and
concise, without idle flourishes or any other ornament of style
than that gracefulness of turn which was his inseparable attribute.
In the hope of gaining fuller satisfaction on this subject, the pre-
sent writer obtained permission to inspect and transcribe any
copies of his official correspondence which might be found at the
State Paper Office. The results have been less copious by much
than had been hoped. It appears that at this. period official papers
were not preserved in public repositories with the care and regu-
larity,due to their importance as historical documents. In conse-
quence, but few of the letters of Addison’s secretaryship are here
to be met with; and the greater part of these, as well as of the
‘“‘orders,’’ relate merely to matters of routine, destitute of all inte-
rest forthe general-reader. A few however of a different charac-
ter were found, which will here be given together with some of
the same nature derived from private collections.

Out of several answers to congratulatory letters on his appoint-
ment, the following alone appears to possess some interest, both as
evincing the esteem entertained for Addison by the principal mem-
bers of the Irish privy council, and showing that, in addition to
the duties of an English secretary of state he discharged during the
vacancy of the office of lord lieutenant, most of those of the Irish
secretaryship.

MR. SECRETARY ADDISON TO THE LORDS JUSTICES OF IRELAND.

I am highly sensible of the honor Your Excellences do me by
your kind letter of congratulation upon my coming into a trouble-

250 THE LIFE OF

some Post. I shall take a great deal of pleasure in it if it qualifies
me to perform anything that may be agreeable to Your Excellen-
ces, because I know everything that is so will be for his Majesty’s
service. As many of the affairs of Ireland are to pass through
my hands, I shall give them all the dispatch possible, and be
always glad of receiving any commands from your Exellences,
being &c,
April 23, 1717.

The letters to ministers at foreign courts are mostly written in
a tone of intimacy which shows how much his private friendships
had taken the line of diplomatic persons,—a fresh refutation of the
assertions of Spence, or Pope, respecting his small knot of habitual
associates. Thus, immediately after his appointment, he writes
to Mr. Davenant envoy at Genoa, “I cannot let this post go with-
out assuring you that you may command the good offices which I
am able to do you in my new station, which you may believe I
did not enter upon without much reluctancy.”

From the same gentleman there is an exceedingly curious let-
ter giving notice of its being suspected that a set of people mix
poisonous liquors called “ Aquetta di Tofania from a Greek woman
who thirty years ago introduced the same into Sicily,’’ where the
viceroy put to death many nobles for using it. That it had since
got to Naples, where two friars, a nun and a Genoese, had been
examined, since which discovery, liquors had been seized and
given to dogs on trial. That in the last week two German sol-
diers and three Neapolitan women had been hanged for making
and selling the aqua T'ofana, by which six hundred persons had
been poisoned, and that many more were still in prison for it.

In consequence of this warning, Addison writes to the comp-
troller of the customs directing him to take such measures as
may prove effectual to prevent the introduction of these liquors
into England.

A letter in the hand-writing of the secretary to that very extra-
ordinary personage Charles, Earl of Peterborough, the “ Mordanto’’
of Swift, whose superabundant activity, both of body and mind, was
incessantly hurrying him into suspicious designs and perils of a
thousand kinds, is in these terms.

MR. ADDISON TO THE EARL OF PETERBOROUGH.
May 6. 1717.
My Lord—His Majesty having received complaints from the

JOSEPH ADDISON. 251

~~

Court of Vienna that your Lordship in your travels through Italy
has talked much against the interest of the Emperor, and spoken
of his person in a reflecting manner, I am commanded to acquaint
you that his Majesty thinks such a way of talking is very im-
proper, especially in the country in which your Lordship is at
present, since your Lordship knows very well that his Majesty is
in friendship and good alliance with the Emperor. His Majesty
is also of opinion, as well out of his consideration for your safety,
as out of-his regard for the Emperor, that your Lordship should
not go into the kingdom of Naples, nor into any other of the
Emperor’s dominions in Italy, lest any misfortune should befal
you on that account, or any occasion be given for a new complaint.
Iam &c.

The answer of Lord Peterborough to this admonition on the
part of his sovereign was not found at the State paper office; but
this very curious and characteristic document is here given from
the original, now in the possession of Edward Tickell, Esq.

It may here be mentioned, that before the warning dispatched
by Addison had reached the earl, he had been arrested at Bologna
by order of the papal legate, but as it may be suspected, at other
instigation,—and detained a month in close confinement in the
castle of Urbino, on a preposterous charge of a design to assassi-
nate the Pretender; after which he was liberated with a profusion
of apologies. ‘The news of this transaction caused strong expres-
sions of indignation on the partof the English court, but no proper
satisfaction was exacted for so flagrant an outrage on the liberty
of a British subject. It is somewhat extraordinary that Lord
Peterborough in his letter should make no allusion to this strange
affair.

THE EARL OF PETERBOROUGH TO MR. SECRETARY ADDISON,

S'—I am very much obliged to his Maty for the advertisement
he has been pleased to order you to give me, it is a satisfaction to
receive it from your hands, being confident my answer will be
fairly represented.

Whenever I am aprised of any objection to my conduct I hope
it will be easy to set aside all false repports. I am a little sur-
prized that a person so retired, so entirely inactive, should be sibs
subject of such representations, but lesse so because I am of opi-
nion, that in all y® space of Time there never was any other, that
so well deserved y* Title of y* Lying age.

252 THE LIFE OF -

Ne

I take y* Liberty to assert that I never spoke of y* Person of y*
Emperor but with respect, against his interests is so generalla
Term, y° common Liberty of discourse may be brought under that
head; if they will name y° place, y* person, y* expressions, I be-
lieve I might prove y* complaint very grundlesse.

I take y® Liberty to inform you what I think may have been y*
occasion, and indeed y* Truth. A Relation of mine at Rome
coming from Vienna tould me I was very much out of favour att
that Court, that in their discourse they were pleased principally
to lay to my charge y° last peace, with many assertions as ridicu-
lous as false; they were pleased to make me a disposer of King-
doms, when y* Truth is no man ever more opposed any 'Transac-
tion than I did yt of y® peace.

It is true I never made it my business to contradict any thing
they were pleased to suggest, or pretend to believe. I had no
favours to ask of y° Emperour, and thought att least my former
Services might have deserved a free passage thro” his Terrytories
if my occasions required itt, from which however I can absent
myself without any mortification,

I believe they are perswaded at y® Court of Vienna, and perhaps
elsewhere that | might have been instrumentale in procuring y*
Kingdom of Sicily for y® Duke of Savoy, but even that is as
directly opposite to truth as many other repports on my Subject. I
have waited, and indeed with some impatience to sett some matters
in a true Light, and this amongst others, but as crimes have been
pretended in England, yet examinations and punishments delayed,
the 'Time is not yett come when I think myself at Liberty, being
resolved not to aggravate any person’s misfortunes; when an act
of indemnity is past, or that such persons may have received y°®
punishments which perhaps their actions may have deserved, I
can with more satisfaction publish what will convince all man-
kind, that no man more opposed y® measures of y® late Ministry,
especially in all things relating to y* peace, and even that part of
it which relates to Sicily.

You may be surprized when I tell you that tho’ Ambassadour
to y° Queen of England and obliged to acquaint y* Duke of Savoy
with y* proposalls made in relation to Sicily, yett so far from per-
swading y Prince to accept y° offer, I will produce to y* world
my reasons given to his R. H. in writing against the acceptance,
not only so, but corroborated with all y* arguments I could offer
to show his true interest was never to depart from that of y*. house
of Austria. I have not bragged of this to y° Ministers of Vienna,
but this is a fact which in a little time no person shall be able to

JOSEPH ADDISON. 253

I

contradict. I must add this S", that when I took this Liberty I
acquainted his Royall Highnesse that I did not look upon myself
as any longer y* Queen’s minister, being resolved to return home
without staying for residentiale letters, which accordingly I did.

It shall not be long before Prince Eugene shall be my witnesse
that I was y* occasion of his coming into England to obstruct y®
peace, that I made y® proposalls to y* Emperour and himself,
which had they been pursued exactly would have obtained y* de-
sired effect.

But that I may not in y® least deviate from Truth (having I
confesse no motives or inclinations to make compliments) it may
be True y‘ being informed of such discourses at Vienna on my
Subject I might say, that I wonderedan Emperour whether pleased
or displeased, did not think fit to pay me y® money that I had lent
him to release his Troops taken at Cuenca in Castille upon my
Lord Galloway’s retreat to Valencia, att a time when I was no
longer in service, as likewise money lent to his Minister who was
without a Pistole att Genoa, he having lost all his Equipage abord
my Son’s shipp which was destroyed by y* French.

I might say perhaps it was hard after so many services paid
him and having carried him and his whole Court from Lisbon to
Barcelona att my own expense to no lesse a losse to my family
than near fifteen thousand pounds, for w" from y* Emperour or y®
Court of England I never had y* least satisfaction, I might say it
was hard to be rewarded with nothing but false repports to my
prejudice, and to be accounted an Ennemy when no private per-
son in y® world can give such instances of Service to any Prince.
It is true I have been paid y* summe I am going to mention, but
with y® Losse of above a thousand pounds to obtain itt’ I lent
y° Emperour ‘'wenty thousand pounds to enable his army to take
y° field y* last yeare of y* warr, and engaged all I had to procure
itt, att no little hazard of loosing it all; if such usage after such
endeavours to serve this Prince should occasion some complaint,
itt were carrying itt very Highe in a Christian Country that
therefore I might not goe thro’ his Dominions with safety, but
without doubt it is a cheaper way of paying with imaginary
accusations than with money.

I received y* favour of your letter but Two dayes agoe att
Paris, as soon as it had come to my hands I should immediately
have returned my answer, I shall in England give you a more
satisfactory account then I can doe in writing, | expect to be in
London in some little time after this letter.

But in a word S", whatever my Thoughts may be of y° usage

254 THE LIFE OF

I have met with, what you have represented to me by y° King’s
command, shall make me very carefull not give y® least occasion
for such reports, for indeed complaints signifye little, or any mea-
sures towards obtaining satisfaction in matters of money from this
Court. S". Your most humble and obedient Serv‘.
PETERBOROW.
Paris July the 4th. 1717.

Even in addressing a court lady on a court occasion, the excel-
lent taste of the Secretary will be found to have preserved him
from exceeding the just measure of handsome phrase and respect-
ful demonstration.

MR. ADDISON TO THE DUCHESS OF ST. ALBANS.

Nov’. 8, 1717.

Madam—Though I did not receive the honour of your Grace’s
letter till my return from Hampton Court, which was at ten o’clock
last night, the messenger whom | immediately dispatched upon
that occasion, brought me his Majesty’s commands by five this
morning to respite the execution of the condemned criminals. I
therefore humbly entreat your Grace to acquaint Her Royal High-
ness that the King has been pleased to order a week’s reprieve
for such as are now in Newgate under sentence of death, and
were to have suffered this day. <A. reprieve of this kind is the
first usual step towards a pardon, and | hope will end in such a
one as is hoped for, that the universal joy on such an occasion as
is that of the young prince’s birth may extend even tothe persons
and families of these miserable men.

I am very proud of this opportunity of performing my duty in
obeying the commands which Her Royal Highness has been
pleased to honor me with. Iam &c.

It was at the baptism of this young prince, shortly after, that
the long smothered enmity between George I. and his son, broke
out into an open flame on the choice of a sponsor; and the prince
and princess with their children were commanded to quit their
apartments in St. James’s.

Is this the latest known example of the absurd practice of let-
ting malefactors loose again on society in honor of an addition to
the royal family?

On September 12, we find a minute of a letter written by the
secretary to Lord Stair, ambassador at Paris, recommending that

JOSEPH ADDISON. 255

AnW~i~.

~~~

ae

the Regent should be desired to protect Lord Bolingbroke from
insults, he wishing to reconcile himself with the King, and direct-
ing a pass for England to be given to his servant.

We can conceive the reflections of Addison on this fresh
instance of the tergiversation of his rash and restless predecessor
in office,

A few days afterwards he had the gratification of announcing
to the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland the willingness of his Majesty to
grant a sum of money to Dublin College for the purpose of found-
ing a library.

In December, Mr. Secretary is reported ill, and Mr. Temple
Stanyan writes a letter in his name. This gentleman was pro-
bably of the same family with Mr. Abraham Stanyan, Addison’s
diplomatic friend and correspondent. It appears that they lived
together on terms of intimacy, and Dr. Birch relates on the subject
the following anecdote. Mr. Temple Stanyan had on some emer-
gency borrowed asum of money from Addison, who soon remarked
that his debtor ceased to converse with him on equal terms, and
instead of freely controverting his opinions as before, now yielded
a tame assent to whatever he was pleased to advance. ‘The change
displeased him, and one day when Mr. Stanyan had expressed
his perfect conformity of sentiment on some topic which had fre-
quently been the subject of keen dispute between them, he ex-
claimed with heat, Either contradict me, sir, or pay me my
money!”? Mr. Abraham Stanyan was soon after this ume ap-
pointed to the embassy of Constantinople, as appears from a letter
not deposited in the State Paper Office, being a private communi-
cation, but which both on account of its subject and its date ought
here to find a place. The accession of George I. had drawn forth
from a rural retirement both Mr. Wortley Montagu, and the ac-
complished lady Mary, who a few years before had become his
wife. By the interest partly of his relation Lord Halifax, Mr.
Wortley was made a commissioner of the treasury; he was much
esteemed by the king, and in 1716 was appointed ambassador to
the Porte, for the special purpose of mediating a peace between
the Sultan and the Emperor. The negotiation proved unsuccess-
ful; and George I. in some dissatisfaction as it seems with his
representative, ordered letters of recal to be dispatched to him,
which were dated September 28, 1717, and countersigned by Ad-
dison as secretary. Desirous of softening the blow as much as
possible, to a friend whom he had so long loved and valued, the
secretary entrusted to the same courier the following letter.

256 THE LIFE OF —

eee

MR. ADDISON TO MR. WORTLEY MONTAGU.

September 28, 1717.

Dear Sir,—Having been confined to my chamber for some time
by a dangerous fit of sickness, I find upon my coming abroad, that
some things have passed which I think myself obliged to commu-
nicate to you, not as the Secretary to the Ambassador, but as an
humble servant to his friend. Mr. Benson being convinced that
forms of law would in their ordinary course be very tedious and
dilatory in the affair of the auditors, has procured the grant of a
reversion for those places to you and himself, after which, if an
ejectment ensues, you are in immediate possession. This eject-
ment, he believes, may be soon brought about by law, unless a
voluntary surrender make such a proceeding unnecessary. Our
great men are of opinion that upon your being possessed (which
they look upon as sure and sudden) it would be agreeable to your
inclinations, as well as for the King’s service, which you are so
able to promote in parliament, rather to return to your own coun-
try than to live at Constantinople. For this reason, they have
thoughts of relieving you by Mr. Stanyan, who is now at the Im-
perial court, and of joining Sir Robert Sutton with him in the me-
diation of a peace between the Emperor and the Turks.

I need not suggest to you that Mr. Stanyan is in great favor at
Vienna, and how necessary it is to humor that court in the pre-
sent juncture. Besides, as it would have been for your honor to
have acted as sole mediator in such a negotiation, perhaps it would
not have been so agreeable to you to act only in commission.
This was suggested to me the other day by one of our first minis-
ters, who told me that he believed Sir R. Sutton’s being joined in
a mediation which was carried on by my Lord Paget singly,
would be shocking to you, but that they could be more free with
a person of Mr, Stanyan’s quality. I find by his Majesty’s way
of speaking of you, that you are much in his favor and esteem,
and I fancy you would find your ease and advantage more in
being nearer his person than at the distance you are from him at
present. I omit no opportunity of doing you justice where I think
it is for your service, and wish I could know your mind as‘ to
these several particulars, by a more speedy and certain convey-
ance, that I might act accordingly to the utmost of my power.
Madame Kilmansech and my Lady Hervey desire me to forward

JOSEPH ADDISON. 257°

_~

the enclosed to my Lady Mary Wortley, to whom I beg you will
deliver them with my most humble respects. I am ever Sir &c.*

This is the last notice we possess of the intercourse between
these old friends and fellow travelers; but as Mr. Wortley re-
turned to England in the middle of the next year, it may be
believed that they enjoyed the satisfaction of a brief reunion be-
fore their fina] parting. Lady Mary, in her letters, several times
mentions Addison, and always with esteem; near the end of her
correspondence and her life, we find her commemorating him to
her daughter as, “ever your father’s friend.”

A few more letters derived from the Tickell collection will serve
to give an idea of the crowd of “other men’s affairs’? which in
the midst of his official duties, pressed upon the attention of the
secretary. It was however in consequence of his charge of Irish
affairs that he received in the following terms the congratulations
and commissions of the Archbishop of Dublin.

THE ARCHBISHOP OF DUBLIN TO MR. SECRETARY ADDISON.
Bath, Ap!. 22, 1717.

This is hastily to congratulate you on his Majesty’s placing you
in yo" present post of honour and trust; I cou’d not but be at a
loss, when I found all those with whom | transacted any business
in London, vanish on a sudden, so y‘ [ cou’d not tell where to
apply if I had any occasion, but when I found y‘ the affairs of
Ireland were to pass thro’ your hands as Secretary of State it gave
me great comfort. I hope I need not bespeak your favour to y*
poor kingdom of Ireland; you have so many y‘ esteem and love
you there, y‘ I persuade myself you will not come short of the
confidence they have in you, or expectations they have from you.
On the assurance [ have of your friendship to the kingdom in
general and to me in particular, | presume to recommend to yo"
favour the bearer Mr. Savill; I have employed him to solicit an
affair relating to y® clergy of Ireland, it concerns the crown rents
they pay his Majesty out of their Rectorys. I and the Bishop of
Derry presented a memorial to him which he received very gra-
ciously, and ordered it to be referred to y* L‘. Townsend, then
L*, L*. of Ireland, his Lordship seemed to approve y* matter and
promised to put it in its ordinary course, which is to refer it to y®
Justices; but y not being done, as indeed I was not forward to

Se ee MPR Sain od te ee
* See Works of Lady M. Wortley Montagu.

17

258 THE LIFE OF
have it done till I got there to manage it,I am afraid y® matter for
y° present is ata stand. ‘The favour I wou’d entreat of you is to
discourse Mr. Savill y* agent about it, he will give you the me-
morial, and apprise you of y° affair, and I hope if there be occa-
sion for a new Reference from his Majesty to his Grace y* Duke
of Bolton, you will procure it, and get it referr’d to the Ls Jus-
tices, and give it to Mr. Savill. ‘There is another little business,
and it was a grant by my L* Sunderland of the employment of
y° King’s printer to Mr. Nicholas King. A grant was past for
it, but before it cou’d pass the seals it was too late and y® L*, Lt.
was changed. . I was promised a new grant by my L‘ Townsend,
but waited ’till I shou’d go to Ireland, you procured it first for me
and I hope you will help to make it good. Coll. B has pro-
mised to recommend it to you.

S' I hope you will pardon this trouble; I assure you I will
give you as little as I.can, and shall be ready to serve you on all
such occasions. Whilst, which I shall always be S™ Yo" Most
Humble Serv*. Wu: Dogxin.

I was four times to wait on my L* Sunderland before I left
London but had not the happiness to see him, make my services
acceptable to his L'ship.

aT

Budgell, who had been filling with great credit to himself the
offices of clerk to the council and secretary to the Lords Justices
in Lreland, and through the favor of Addison, had just been
appointed accountant and comptroller general for that kingdom,
writes a letter chiefly on his own affairs, but containing an in-
teresting account of the first appearance as a public speaker of
the Duke of Wharton—a prodigy of precocious talent, in whom

Addison from his connection with his father would feel an
interest,

MR. BUDGELL TO MR. SECRETARY ADDISON.

Augt y® 28", 1717.

Hon". S'—It is with y°® utmost joy that I congratulate you
upon y® recovery of your health. Since before I left London
you were pleased to express your desire (which I shall ever look
upon as a command) that I should give you some account of
affairs on this side y* water, I presume to inform you that yester-
day our Parliam‘. opened, about 90 members of y* House of
Commons being in town, who seem to be well enough inclined

JOSEPH ADDISON. 259
Se ee es NES Sea Se ee ee ERE
to make this session an easie one, My Lord Lieut.’s speech
was generally liked. I believe I need not tell you S" that y* D of
Wharton is among us, and that as his Grace went from Coventry
to Holyhead in company with my L‘. Lieut': he did several
things at the Places where they lay &c in y° gayety of his heart
which some think had as well been let alone. He was yesterday
introduced into our house of Lords as Marq’. of Carlow tho’ he is
not yet of age, which is the highest compliment could have
been paid him. It is pretty remarkable that his Grace and y°®
young L*. Hillsborough who was introduced just after him were
y® only persons who spoke in y* House of Lords all that day.
His Grace’s speech was thought by some not so well timed,
Since y* design of it seemed to be to persuade the house to ad-
dress y* King which they had before unanimously agreed to, but
bating this his Grace spoke good sense with a strong voice and
good air, and in all probability, since he shows so early a desire
to be a speaker, must one day make a very considerable figure
in Parliament. He has asked me how you did two or three
times very kindly.

I am not got in possession of my new Imployment, tho’ I am
promised it as soon as y* acc’. are delivered in, but I hope S*
when you answer the letter you receiv’d by y® last post, you will
not seem to believe that such an obstacle, as some people would
have it thought; since I have given you a true account of that
matter. I have been wished joy by our Members of Parliament
and every body else who is my friend. It has been put in our
public papers and should there be any design in this delay to
hinder me from enjoying what y® King has given which I cannot
possibly believe, I must never think of staying in Ireland. I am
with y° utmost gratitude and Respect Hon". 8". Your most obliged
Kinsman aud most obed'. humble Serv*.

E. Bupeexy.

P. S.—I have delivered Lady Warwicks letter to my Lady
Dutchess,* who received me very kindly.

His college put in her claims to the good offices of so distin-
guished an alumnus through the following address to Mr. Tickell,
now holding a situation in the secretary of state’s office.

“ Of Bolton, the duke was now Lord Lieutenant.

260 THE LIFE OF

MR. GIBSON TO MR. TICKELL.

Queen’s Coll. June 12. 1717.

Dear Sir,—I cannot believe myself in a mistake when I take it
for granted that no employment besides the King’s can be more
grateful to you than such as tends to y® interest of Queens. I
shall therefore without unnecessary ceremony continue to lay
such things before you as I take to be of that nature to be thought
of by you at your leisure and communicated and improved as you
think proper. Iam often flattering myself that Queen’s College
cannot be in a low condition whilst she has y* honour to lay
claim to so many persons in erminent stations, or her buildings
be at a stand whilst they have such abilities.and generous tem-
pers. A Queen’s College Secretary of State laid y* foundation,
and who can tell how far another may carry it on (at least by
good offices) if one so much respected by him as yourself should
give a seasonable hint, and that were seconded by such persons
as y° Bishops of Carlisle and Lincoln, For my part I should
have a great deal of pleasure in y* tender of my addresses If I
could tell how to offer them without presumption. I must own I
have no little ambition to see the Hon’* Mr. Addison’s. arms over
against Sir Jos. Williamson’s in our new Chapel, and to hear
him annually celebrated in our Founder’s speech, as a Be-
nefactor, as he has constantly been one of y° brightest orna-
ments of our College. ‘Tis a pity that my Lord Lonsdale never
see this place in order to forma true judgment of y® great use
and benefit it is to our country in general, By the Jittle conver-
sation I had y* honour to have with his Lordship some years agoe
at Lowther I perceived so much humanity and goodness as made
me hope he would become an ample subject for y* best Orator
Westmoreland or Cumberland could produce with y* advantage
of an Oxford Education. Without any rhetorick to Mr. Tickell
I beg leave to put him in mind of what I shall ever think my
duty, viz that Queen’s College should always have a due share
of his thoughts, and that his leisure hours cannot be more hap-
pily employed than in concerting with his friends y* best mea-
sures for promoting y* interest of our Common Parent. I have
abundance more to say to you on this subject, which you will
have after [ return from y° progress if you favour me with a few
lines on tuesday night next directed to be left with Mr. Brougham
at Southamptom. I am interrupted witha visit, and can only add

JOSEPH ADDISON. 261

RAR AA RAIA ARR RRR

my respects to all friends, and assure you that I am with sin-
cerity, Sir, Your affec: humble serv*.
: , Joun Gipson.

The Archbishop of Canterbury addressed him on a business of
charity in the following terms:

ARCHBISHOP WAKE TO MR. SECRETARY ADDISON.

Decr. 31.1717.

Honored Sir,—I had the favour of your letter yesterday by
Mr. Stevens, but was so full of company that it was scarce
possible for me then to have return’d such an answer as I ought
to it, lassured Mr. Stevens by word of mouth that I should esteem

myself very happy if I could serve any friend of yours; and that

as to himself in particular, if by what he desired of a Prebend
of Worcester in exchange for the Living you have been pleased
to give him in the city, [ could also accommodate Mr. Shute, who

-has not only served but suffered for the government, I should be

most ready to join with you in any recommendation you should
think fit to make of this matter to his majesty.

Permit me Sir,upon this occasion to put you in mind of honest
Mr. Eachard, who is now on his way hither to publish his His-
tory, and present it, as we agreed, to his Majesty. His circum-
stances are so much worse than I thought, that if we cannot get
somewhat pretty considerable for him, | doubt he will sink under
the weight of his debts. My lord Sunderland is a lover of books,
and of learned men: he has promised, on your account especially,
to be kind to this poor Gentleman. I verily believe that 300
guineas for the 3 vols, may as easily be procured from the King
as 200/: And I hope you will please to propose that, as a gratifi-
cation, to his Lordship.

I heartily beg your excuse of this charitable trouble ; and wish-
ing you a perfect recovery of your Health, and many happy years
in the enjoyment of it, remain with the truest respect Hon"* 8".
Yo" most faithful obedient Humble serv‘.

W. Cant.

Laurence Echard, the industrious man of letters who had ex-
cited so warm an interest in high places, had already made his
name known by an Ecclesiastical and a Roman history, but the
work on which he was now engaged, was the completion, down
to the accomplishment of the revolution, of a History of England

262 THE LIFE OF

from Julius Cesar. His principles both in church and state,
were somewhat too high to give him any natural claim on the
patronage of George I., and of Sunderland, but they were appro-
priately rewarded by the ecclesiastical preferment of which he .
progressively attained a considerable share.

In the midst of these multifarious applications and correspond-
ences, some of them resulting from his official station and duties,
others from the eminence of his reputation as a scholar and a
patron of scholars, and others again from his constancy in main-
taining the friendships of his earlier days and humbler fortunes,
—the constitution of Addison was fast yielding under reiterated
attacks of disease. It is strange that any biographer should ven-
ture, like Dr. Johnson, with the facts which were before him, to
represent his retirement from office as a result of real incompe-
tency, glossed over by his friends with the plea of ill health. Ad-
dison may, or may not, have proved himself inefficient in a post
which he appears to have accepted with strong reluctance and
genuine misgivings,—he may have found himself unequal to sup-
port its labors,—he may have shrunk from its responsibilities,—
but that the state of his health was sufficient, without the concur-
rence of any other causes, to render his resignatian indispensable
is abundantly obvious.

We find frequent references to fits of sickness both in his own
letters and those of others. The attack which he mentions in his
letter to Mr. Wortley, was evidently an alarming one, since his
recovery from it was thought worthy of serious commemoration
in Latin verse by the classic pen of Vincent Bourne; that usher
of Westminster school since immortalized in the reminiscences,
the praises, and the translations of the poet of the ‘Task.

The lines are these:

O charum Musis! quisquis fuit ille Machaon,
Qui Musis potuit restituisse Decus:

Qui Tibi languenti vires, animamque reduxit
Visuram inferni jam propé regna Dei;

Qui nobis tristes elegos et lugubre carmen
Mutari plectro jam meliore facit.

O! longum maneas, si quid pia vota valebunt,
Presidium Aonii Delicieque chori.

Hane fata incolumem servent, quando altera vita
Servari, Musis tam pretiosa, nequit.

Sint seri luctus, et sint ea funera sera,
Que nemo poterit dicere sera nimis. ;

Sic yoyet, Honoratissime Domine,
Tui Nominis amantissimus
Vincentius Bourne
Collegii Trinitatis Alumnus.
Dabam Cantabrigie 7 Cal. Septemb., 1717.

JOSEPH ADDISON. : 263

A return of the complaint, Which appears to have been of an
asthmatic nature, soon succeeded to these congratulations, and the
secretary was reduced to request his dismissal in a letter preserved
in the handwriting of ‘Tickell under the title of

English copie of Mr. Secy. Addison’s letter to y° King desiring
leave to resign the Seals.

Sir—It is with great concern that I find my Health in such a
condition as will not permit me to attend the Duties of my Office
with that Assiduity and Application which it requires. Though
I shall hereby lose the honour and pleasure of serving the greatest
and best of Masters in that high station with which you Majesty
has been pleased to honor me, I shall embrace every opportunity
to the last moment of my Life to promote Y. M.’s Service, which
is only promoting that of your people, as all who have had the
honour to lay businesse before Y. M’. ought in justice to acquaint
the World. I think it therefore, my Duty both to Y. M¥. and
the Publick, to resign with the deepest Sentiments of Gratitude
and Humility the Seals of the Secretary’s Office, that they may
be disposed of to one who, besides an inviolable Zeal and Attach-
ment to Y. M.’s Interests, in which I shall never be behind any

nobody shal] ever go before me

one, has a suitable Stock of Health to go through the Businesse
of so great an Employ.*

CHAPTER XIV.
1717 to 1719.

Addison in retirement. Letters to Swift. Literary projects. Peerage bill.
Writes the Old Whig against Steele’s Plebeian. Account of the controversy.
Death of Addison. Discussion of his imputed intemperance. His will in
favor of his lady. Anecdotes of his last days. Notice of him by Whiston.
His interview with Gay. Circumstance related by Dr. Young. His funeral
and monument. Notice of his daughter. His library and pictures. Con-

clusion.

Tue resignation of the Secretary was accepted in March, 1718,
eleven months only after his appointment, and his friend Mr.

es
ee

* Tickell papers. In what language the original was written does not appear.
Walpole could confer with his German master only in bad Latin, but Addison’s
instrument of communication was probably French.

264 THE LIFE OF

Craggs promoted in his room. Atidison had enjoyed the lucrative
post of one of the commissioners for trade and plantations, but a
short time when, on attaining the situation of a principal secretary
of state, he had relinquished it; but this loss was now compensated
to him by a pension of fifteen hundred a year. Being thus
entirely exonerated from those pecuniary cares which during a
great part of his career appear to have pressed heavily on a sen-
sitive and anxious spirit, he probably anticipated, from the influ-
ence of tranquility and leisure, the permanent restoration of the
health which he had lost amid the solicitudes of life and the toils of
office. He soon found his mistake; but his first warm emotions
of joy and thankfulness may be viewed with pleasure in the fol-
lowing letters.

MR. ADDISON TO DEAN SWIFT.

March 20, 1717-18.

Dear Sir—Multiplicity of business anda long dangerous fit of
sickness have prevented me from answering the obliging letter
you honored me with some time since; but, God be thanked, I
cannot make use of either of these excuses at present, being en-
tirely free both of my office and my asthma. I dare not however
venture myself abroad yet, but have sent the contents of your last
to a friend of mine (for he is very much so, though my successor)
who I hope will turn it to the advantage of the gentleman whom
you mention. I know you have so much zeal and pleasure in
doing kind offices to those you wish well to, that I hope you
represent the hardship of the case in the strongest colors that it
can possibly bear. However, as I always honored you for your
good nature, which is a very odd quality to celebrate in a man
who has talents so much more shining in the eyes of the world, I
should be glad if I could any way concur with you in putting a
stop to what you say is now in agitation.

I must condole with you upon the loss of that excellent man the
Bishop of Derry, who has scarcely left behind him his equal in
humanity, agreeable conversation, and all kinds of learning. We
have often talked of you with great pleasure, and upon this occa-
sion I cannot but reflect upon myself, who, at the same time that I
omit no opportunity of expressing my esteem for you to others, have
been so negligent in doing it to yourself. Ihave several times
taken up my pen to write to you, but have always been interrupted
by some impertinence or other; and to tell you unreservedly, I
have been unwilling to answer so agreeable a letter as that I re-

JOSEPH ADDISON. 265

ceived from you, with one written in form only; but I must still
have continued silent had I deferred writing till could have made
a suitable return. Shall we never again talk in laconic? ~When-
ever you see England your company will be the most acceptable
in the world at Holland house, where you are highly esteemed by
Lady Warwick and the young lord; though by none any where
more than by, Sir, Your most faithful and most humble Servant.

-- The reader will not omit to remark, as some presumption against
the assumed matrimonial subserviency of Addison, the frank and
confident tone in which he answers for the cordial welcome which
would be afforded to his friend by his Sultana wife and her noble
offspring.

The Bishop of Derry here lamented was Dr. St. George Ashe,
one of the Irish friends of the writer. Mention of him frequently
occurs in Swift’s Correspondence, and he seems to be again re-
ferred to in a subsequent letter,—the last testimony to be produced
of the continued friendship of Addison for Swift. It seems from
the first paragraph, as if he had even consented at the dean’s
request, to dip a finger in some Irish job.

MR. ADDISON TO DEAN SWIFT.
Bristol Oct". 1, 1718,

Dear Sir—I have received the honor of your letter at Bristol,
where I have just finished a course of water-drinking, which J
hope has pretty well recovered me from the leavings of my last
winter’s sickness. As for the subject of your letter, though you
know an affair of that nature cannot well nor safely be treated of
in writing, I desired a friend of mine to acquaint Sir Ralph Gore,
that I was under a pre-engagement, and not at my own choice to
act in it, and have since troubled my lady Ashe with a letter to
the same effect, which I hope has not miscarried. However,
upon my return to London, I will further inquire into that mat-
ter, and see if there is any room left for me to negotiate as you
propose. i

I still live in hopes of seeing you in England, and if you would
take my house of Bilton in your way (which is within a mile of
Rugby) I would strain hard to meet you there provided you would
make me happy in your company for some days. oat

The greatest pleasure I have met with for some months, is in
the conversation of my old friend Dr. Smalridge, who, since the
death of the excellent man you mention, is tome the most candid and

266 ' THE LIFE OF -

x

agreeable of all bishops: I would say, clergymen, were not deans
comprehended under that title. We have often talked of you,
and when I assure you he has an excellent taste of writing, I
need not tell you how he talks on such a subject. I look upon it
as my good fortune, that I can express my esteem to you, even to
those who are not of the bishop’s party, without giving offence.
When a man has so much compass in his character he affords his
friends topics enough to enlarge upon, that all sides admire. I
am sure a sincere and zealous friendly behavior distinguishes
you as much as many more shining talents; and as I have re-
ceived particular instances of it, you must have avery bad opinion
of me, if you do not think I heartily love and respect you; and
that I am ever, dear sir, Your most obedient and most humble
servant.

To this period must also be referred the beautiful testimony of
his reverence for Milton, in the person of his surviving representa-
tive, recorded in the following extract :

“Mr. John Ward, fellow of the Royal Society, and professor of
rhetoric in Gresham-college, London, saw the above Mrs. Clark,
Milton’s daughter, at the house of one of her relations not long
before her death, (ob. 1727 et. 76.] when she informed me says
that gentleman, ‘That she and her sisters used to read to their
father in eight languages, which by practice they were capable
of doing with great readiness, and accuracy, tho’ they understood
no language but English, and their father used often to say in
their hearing, one tongue was enough for a woman. None of
them were ever sent to school, but all taught at home by a mis-
tress kept for that purpose. Isaiah, Homer, and Ovid’s Meta-
morphoses were books which they were often called to read to
their father; and at my desire she repeated a great number of
verses from the beginning of both these poets with great readi-
ness. I knew who she was upon the first sight of her, by the
similitude of her countenance with her father’s picture. And
upon my telling her so, she informed me, that Mr. Addison told
her the same thing, on her going to wait on him; for he, upon
hearing she was living, sent for her, and desired if she had any
papers of her father’s, she would bring them with her, as an
evidence of her being Milton’s daughter; but immediately on her
being introduced to him, he said, Madam, you need no other
voucher; your face is a sufficient testimonial whose daughter you
are; and he then made her a handsome present of a purse of gui-

JOSEPH ADDISON. 267
neas, with a promise of procuring for her an annual provision for
life; but he dying soon after, she lost the benefit of his generous
design. She appeared to be a woman of good sense and genteel
behavior, and to bear the inconveniences of a low fortune with
decency and prudence.’ ”’

From “ The Lives of the Poets, by Mr. Cibber,”? [alias Robert Shiels.] Lon-
don, 1753. 120. Vol. 2, p. 141. ; =a

It was to be expected, both from the inclinations and the former
practice of Addison, that his first impulse on finding himself
emancipated from official labors, would be to resume the more
tranquil pursuits of a man of letters; and it should seem that he
was not unprovided of literary projects, some of which may have
lain maturing in his mind for years.

“If he had found time for the writing of another tragedy,” says
Tickell, «the death of Socrates would have been the story.”? And
however unpromising that subject may appear, it would be pre-
sumptuous to censure his choice, who was so famous for raising
the noblest plants from the most barren soil. It serves to show
that he thought the whole labor of such a performance unworthy
to be thrown away upon those intrigues and adventures to which
the Romantic taste has confined modern tragedy ; and after the
example of his predecessors in Greece, would have employed the
Drama to * wear out of our minds everything that is mean or
little; to cherish and cultivate that humanity which is the orna-
ment of our nature; to soften insolence, to soothe affliction, and to
subdue our minds to the dispensations of Providence.” But of
the death of Socrates it does not appear that a single line was
ever written. Of his work on the Evidences of Christianity, in
which Tickell intimates that he was at one time “more assiduous
than his health could well allow,’’ mention has been already
made; and it does not seem that this fragment received any
addition after he quitted office. Neither is there anything to be
produced in corroboration of the statement, that he “had long
determined to dedicate his poetry also, for the future, wholly to
religious subjects,”’—unless it be Tonson’s absurd assertion that
he designed to enter the church and obtain a bishopric, and to
that end had resolved to translate the whole book of Psalms; of
which he executed several. All the psalms, or hymns, of his
that we possess, appeared in the Spectator. In fact, the latest
efforts of Addison were exerted in behalf of a far different cause ;
and he exhausted himself in the composition of political pieces,
concerning which Tickell has thought fit to preserve a profound

»)

268 THE LIFE OF
silence, but which the biographer ought not now to pass over
without a full account of their nature and origin.” .

The Whigs of this period had never ceased to cherish an indig-
nant remembrance of that unprecedented creation of twelve peers
in a breath, by which queen Anne, under the direction of Harley,
had overpowered their fixed majority in the upper House and
effected their expulsion from the administration.

It was natural therefore that on the restoration of their ascend-
ency under the new reign, they should meditate some effectual
measure for precluding any possible repetition of so pernicious an
expedient. ‘This purpose, perhaps combined with some personal
views in the joint projectors, Lord Sunderland the chief of the
cabinet, and Lord Stanhope, led to the introduction of a Peerage
Bill, by which the number of members of the upper House was
to be limited, the sovereign foregoing the prerogative of creating
new peerages except in place of such as should become extinet.
On the first suggestion of the measure in the Commons, at the end
of February, 1719, notwithstanding the boldness of the innovation,
few objections seem to have been made, and a message of ap-
proval being delivered from his majesty, the bill was brought in
with the expectation on the part of the ministers of its passing
unopposed. .

Difficulties however soon arose; the Scotch portion of the bill,
by which representative peerages were changed into hereditary
ones, raised great discussion; the general principle was attacked:
and it soon became evident that a section of the Whigs, with the
formidable Walpole at their head, who had resigned with Lord
Townshend on the late dissensions in the cabinet, were resolved,
partly as a trial of strength, to give it, both in and out of parlia-
ment, all the opposition in their power. The consequence was,
that about the middle of April, Lord Stanhope instead of proceed-
ing to the third reading, found it expedient to defer the measure
till the next session, but with the full purpose of then carrying it
through by the whole strength of government. In the interval,
there raged between these unnatural combatants a perfect civil
war of pamphlets.

Steele, whose ruined circumstances and injared reputation fitted
him for troubled waters, immediately threw himself into the fray,
and set up for the service of the opposition a weekly paper called
the Plebeian. In the first number of it however he confined him-
self closely to the question, urging against the bill none but gene-
ral, and those not ill-founded, objections ; such as the inexpediency
of further abridging the prerogative which could no longer be

aa

JOSEPH ADDISON. 269

ow

regarded as exorbitant, and the danger of so altering the balance
of the constitution as in effect to turn it into an aristocracy.

An answer speedily appeared to this Plebeian under the title of
the Old Whig, powerfully and methodically reasoned, and with
such a superiority of style as loudly claimed it for the author of
the Freeholder. {[t contained no personal allusions to the opposite
champion, and cannot be said to have in any respect exceeded the
bounds of civil though earnest controversy. Such praise is not
to be conceded to the reply of the Plebeian: He supposes his an-
tagonist to be ‘somebody or other that is used to masquerading;
and indeed he is so well disguised that ’tis impossible to know
him.” “He is so Old a Whig that he is afraid be has quite for-
gotten his principles.”’ In one passage, too, he seems to intimate
a knowledge of the author: ‘This pamphlet, by the marks it ap-
pears with, being in all probability the best performance that is to
come from that quarter, the Plebeian will consider it thoroughly.”
In accuracy of statement and soundness of logic this paper is still
more inferior to that which it answers than in decency, of which
it contains gross violations. The Old Whig was provoked to some
sharp, but richly deserved retaliation. In his second number, he
reproaches the Plebeian with having begun “like a son of Grub
Street, with declaring the great esteem he has for himself, and
the contempt he entertains for the scribblers-of the age,’”’ and he
even ridicules him as “Little Dicky.’ An able and a calm refu-
tation of his arguments then succeeds, but the whole concludes
with an ironical compliment to the Plebeian on the talents he has
shown for his “new vocation” of a “pamphleteer.”’ The word
pamphlet, it may be remarked by the way, had not yet lost its’
original signification of a ¢ibel.

The next Plebeian showed its author deeply wounded by the
strokes he had himself provoked; he complained of the “insolent
compassion” expressed towards him,—affected to treat the second
Old Whig as so great a falling off, not only from the former writ-
ings of the author, but even from the first number, that he scarcely
knew whether it were “ himself or his ghost,’”’—and he concluded
with a quotation from Cato, which Dr. Johnson calls ‘at once de-
tection and reproof.”’*

PRE BIASES

* These pieces never having been reprinted,* are now of extreme rarity.
Johnson had never seen them. I am indebted for the perusal of them to Bolton
Corney, Esq., whose curious collection contains a volume formerly Mr. Bind-
Jey’s,—in which both the Old Whig and the Plebeian are bound up, with other
tracts on the same subject.

~~

*A mistake, Mr. Macaulay says: they were reprinted as lately as the year 17£9,

270 THE LIFE OF
ee Ee! i EO

And this was the closing scene of the long connection,—this
the final leave-taking of Addison and Steele,—the loving school-
fellows,—the college friends,—the joyous, witty companions,—
the literary partners and mutual advisers,—the associates in pub-
lic business,—the fellow members of the House of Commons,—
the brothers in political opinion! Alas for frail and erring human
nature!

It is probable that more causes of estrangement than we are
informed of must have preceded this unseemly quarrel, for Steele
had written to his wife in 1717, “1 ask no favor of Mr. Secretary
Addison;’’ but we have some ground to hope that both parties
lived long enough to feel compunctious visitings. The omission
of the Old Whig from Tickell’s edition of Addison’s works, for
which his own directions were no doubt received and followed,
indicates as much on one part; and when.Steele addressed to
Congreve the letter prefixed to the Drummer, the reader feels that
all traces must have vanished from his mind of everything but
the genius and the virtues of him whom he points out by the
touching description of “the man I loved best.’’ Even in the
heat of this dispute, we cannot believe that he would have writ-
ten his last rejoinder with any suspicion that it would have found
Addison on his death-bed. This however must have been lite-
rally the case. It was not till after the latter end of April, that
the controversy began; in the third Plebeian the Old Whig is
reproached for his long delay in bringing out his third number,
and on June 17, Addison expired; thus affording a very remark-
able instance of mental vigor retained to the latest stage of one
of the most distressing of chronic maladies.

It appears that the asthma with which he had been afflicted
during his secretaryship had speedily returned with redoubled
violence ; dropsy supervened,“and thus a period was put to his
valuable life on June 17, 1719, at the early age of forty-seven.

It here becomes necessary, however painful, to advert toa pre-
valent impression that this lamentable event was hastened by the
effects of the sole vicious habit said to have served as alloy to the
virtues of Addison,—excess in wine, At this distance of time,
much of direct evidence is not to be expected on such a subject,
but it may safely be affirmed, that the inctdental notices supplied
by the study of his life, tend much more to invalidate than confirm
so disgraceful an imputation ; and these shall now be laid without
partiality before the reader.

All our accounts of his Oxford life bespeak him a retired student,
guilty of no excess but in severe nocturnal study ; and precisely

JOSEPH ADDISON. 271

the same impression of his habits while at Blois is conveyed by
the tattle of his prying neighbor Phillippeaux;. while his letters
strongly express the loathing with which he shunned the society
of the toping German counts by whom that town was infested. It
is true that his correspondence while abroad contains several allu-
sions to convivialities, but these are all in a sportive tone, and have
much the air of irony hazarded on the very strength of a sober
character. Pope’s account, as reported by Spence, concerning his
tavern evenings with his intimates, has done most injury to his
reputation in this respect; but it will be observed that even he
does not actually charge him with excess, and when he says that
he had himself belonged for some time to this set, but left it off
because it hurt his health, we should remember that a constitution
like Pope’s would not admit even of late hours with impunity.
That of Addison, we know from the testimony of his friend Wort-
ley to have been remarkably sound; and other accounts intimate,
that he was only warmed into the utmost brilliancy of table con-
versation, by the time that Steele had rendered himself nearly
unfit for it. It has already been shown too, that so far from con-
stantly requiring the stimulus of tavern conviviality, he mostly took
refuge from it in the studious solitude of his country lodgings.
Swift, in his journal, once speaks of him as exceeding moderation
when he gave a treat to some friends,—an exception which surely
may be said to prove the rule. In a letter to Colonel Hunter,
Swift says: “ Sometimes. Mr. Addison and I steal to a bottle of
bad wine, and wish for no third person but you, who if you were
with us, would never be satisfied without three more.’’ Com-
paratively, therefore, he was certainly temperate, and his disease,
the asthma, is not one of those which intemperance tends to pro-
duce; it must however be owned, that excess was at this time so
nearly universal, and in many companies so imperatively enforced,
that it was difficult for any one to keep gentlemen’s company,
without taking wine enough eventually to injure his constitution,
although he might always stop short of actual intoxication, ‘That
Addison had contracted no habit either injurious to the powers of
his intellect, or inconsistent with tranquillity of mind and peace of
conscience, his own writings however bear the most satisfactory
testimony of all; because of a kind which could not be counter-
feited. Let any one, after perusing his inimitable papers, ask
himself whether their crowning grace be not derived from the
spirit of the author shining through them, and whether that spirit
be not eminently one of sobriety? Whether the harmony, the
proportion, the correctness of taste and judgment which pervade

272 THE LIFE OF
them,—their mild benevolence and their cheerful unaffected piety,
can be conceived as co-existing with a career of intemperance and
the confusion, misery and self-reproach by which it is inevitably
attended? Or will any one believe that a man stained himself
with this vice, would have dared to stigmatize it as in his 569th
Spectator? Some however have supposed that it was only after
his marriage, and in consequence of domestic unhappiness, that
Addison contracted this dreadful habit. The slight foundation of
the notion that matrimony was to hima state of infelicity, has been
already pointed out; in any case, his experience of it was short;
Jess than three years; a period scarcely sufficient it might be
thought, to produce so fatal a result. Nor are we unprovided with
an authentic piece of evidence tending to an opposite conclusion.
By his last will, dated only a month before his death, he bequeaths
to his lady his whole property, real and personal, subject only to
a legacy of 500. to his sister Mrs. Combs, and an annuity of 50/.
to his father’s widow, adding these emphatic expressions: “ And
1 do make and ordain my said dear wife executrix of this my last
will: and I do appoint her to be guardian of my dear child Char-
lotte Addison, until she shall attain her age of one-and-twenty ;
being well assured that she will take due care of her education
and maintenance, and provide for her in case she live to be mar-
ried.”’ A testimony thus solid of his entire affection; and of his
more than ordinary confidence in the equity and maternal impar-
tiality of a widow who was likewise the mother of a son and
daughters elder, and of higher rank, than his own infant, orphan
girl, ought, it will surely be allowed, to outweigh any vague
rumors to the disadvantage of her temper and manners in the
conjugal relation! . Is it conceivable that any man would thus
‘give and hazard all he had,’”’ even to his precious only child, in
compliment to a woman who should have rendered his last years
miserable by her pride and petulance, and have driven him out
from his home to pass his comfortless evenings in the gross in-
dulgence of a tavern?’’*

The last days of this excellent man were replete with interest,

ee

* A story has sometimes appeared in print, as reported by some traveler on
his return from Ferney, to the effect, that Voltaire gave an account of his hay-
ing, when in England, dined in a company where he saw Addison in a state of
disgusting intoxication. It is just worth while to remark, wherever this counter-
feit tale was minted, that the French wit did not visit England till the year 1726,
and consequently could never have been in the company of Addison.

The absurd rumor of his having, while at Oxford, turned into a toper by his

example Dryden, who lived in London, and was about forty years his senior,
merits no refutation.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 273
and with moral instruction. In that ingenuous life of himself
where the honest Whiston speaks of his “ great friend Mr. Addi-
son,’ and records his obligations to him for his patronage of his

astronomical lectures, he expresses his admiration, that a secretary

of state should “retain such a great regard for the Christian re-
ligion that he began to read the ancient fathers of the three first
centuries before he died;’’ and he supposes him to have begun
his work on the Christian evidences about the same time. He
then mentions, that passing by Holland House, where he knew
from the public papers that Addison was lying sick and not likely
to recover, he called and desired to see him. ‘But the answer
was, that the physicians had given order that nobody should be
admitted to see him: I replied, that notwithstanding such order,
if he knew I was there, I believed he would see me; but I could
not prevail, so I saw him not.’”’ In any other person than Whis-
ton, such an application, although unsuccessful, would argue an
extraordinary degree of intimacy; in him it may rather pass for a
trait of that mingled simplicity and self-importance of the clergy-
man and the scholar which characterized him. Without doubt he
conceived that his spiritual services would be highly prized by
his ‘great friend’ in his last extremity; it is possible even that he
might wish to make experiment upon him of the efficacy of prayer
and anointing of the sick with oil, a practice of the primitive
church in which, for that sole reason, he’ put great faith as a
remedy.

The anecdote is at least a valuable one, as an authentic pledge
of the high esteem in which, at the very close of his career, the
character of Addison, public and private, was held by a man of
proverbial integrity, and primitive simplicity, who never feared to
speak his thoughts to the face of statesman, prelate or princess.

One touching incident is preserved by Spence from the relation
of Pope. A short time before his death, Addison sent Lord War-
wick to request that Gay, who had not lately cultivated his ac-
quaintance, would give him a visit. Gay complied; on his arrival
he found himself received with great kindness, after which Addi-
son made him the acknowledgment that he had injured him, but
assured him, that if he lived he would make him amends. He
explained himself no further, and Gay could not conjecture in
what particular he could have done him such serious mischief.
It may be safely concluded, that he who felt it necessary to his
peace of mind to make such an acknowledgment, could have had
but few offences against his fellow-creatures resting upon his con-
science.

18

274 THE LIFE OF

~~

A different circumstance stands on the authority of Dr. Young,
who has related it in these terms. “After a long and manly, but
vain struggle with his distemper, he dismissed his physicians, and
with them all hopes of life; but with his hopes of life he dismissed
not his concern for the living, but sent for a youth nearly related
(the Earl of Warwick) and finely accomplished, but not above
being the better for good impressions from a dying friend. He
came, but life now glimmering in the socket, Addison was silent;
after a decent and proper pause, the youth said, ‘Dear sir, you
sent for me; I believe and I hope you have some commands, I
shall hold them most sacred.’ May distant ages not only hear but
feel the reply! Forcibly grasping the earl’s hand, he softly said,
«See in what peace a Christian can die!’”’

No one can make the slightest question of the Christian faith of
Addison ; and Young’s assertion that he received the anecdote from
Tickell, who said that he designed an allusion to it in two lines of
his poem to the memory of his friend,

*¢ He taught us how to live, and O too high
The price for knowledge! taught us how to die,”
would, 7f true, put the story, as to the main fact, out of doubt. The
pompous and theatrical air of it, however, so repugnant to the mind
and manners of Addison, cannot but excite a strong suspicion that
it owes to the narrator at least its dressings.

A few days only before his decease, Addison gave directions to
Tickell to collect his writings, of which the only unpublished part
consisted in his Dialogues on Medals, and his fragment on the
Christian religion.

At the same time he committed a letter to his care in which he
had bequeathed his works as a pledge of friendship, to his friend
and successor Mr, Craggs. ‘hese lines, interesting as probably
the very last traced by the hand of Addison, and touching as a
testimony of his almost parental affection for an amiable protégé,
and his dying anxiety to make an interest for him in the heart of
a new patron when he himself should be removed, here demand
insertion and run as follows :—

Dear Sir,—I cannot wish that any of my writings should last
longer than the memory of our friendship, and therefore I thus
publicly bequeath them to you, in return for the many valuable
instances of your affection.

That they may come to you with as little disadvantage as pos-
sible, I have left the care of them to one, whom, by the expe-
rience of some years, 1 know well qualified to answer my inten-

JOSEPH ADDISON. 275,

tions, He has already the honour and happiness of being under
your protection ; and as he will very much stand in need of it, I
cannot wish him better than that he may continue to deserve the
favour and protection of such a patron.

I have no time to lay out in forming such compliments, as
would but ill suit that familiarity between us, which was once
my greatest pleasure, and will be my greatest honour hereafter,
Instead of them, accept my hearty wishes, that the great reputa-
tion you have acquired so early, may increase more and more:
and that you may long serve your country with those excellent
talents, and unblemished integrity, which have so powerfully re-
commended you to the most gracious and amiable monarch that ever
filled a throne. May the frankness and generosity of your spirit
continue to soften and subdue your enemies, and gain you many
friends, if possible, as sincere as yourself. When you have found
such, they cannot wish you more true happiness than I, who am
with the greatest zeal, &c.

It is remarkable that this statesman added to the esteem and
affection of Addison, the suffrage of Pope, expressed in several
eulogistic couplets which are found in his poem on Addison’s.
Dialogues on Medals.

Mr. Craggs did not long survive to justify or to disappoint the
hopes of his friends; he was cut off by a hasty fate even before
he could receive the offering of Addison ‘from the hands of
Tickell.

All funeral honours were duly paid to the remains of a man
justly regarded as the ornameat of his age and country. His
body lay in state in the Jerusalem chamber on June 26, and was
afterwards interred in Westminster Abbey; but by a strange
neglect, not even a stone was placed to mark the spot till ninety
years afterwards, when a handsome monument, raised by sub-
scription, proved how freshly his fame still lived and flourished in
the memory of his fellow-countrymen.

Charlotte Addison inherited from her mother her father’s estate
of Bilton, where she resided unmarried to the termination of a
long life. After her decease, the library of Addison was sold for
a moderate sum; a small number of pictures collected by him
still, it is believed, remain in the house ; they are mostly portraits
of his cotemporaries, and intrinsically of small value.

Such was Joseph Addison, of whom, as an author, it has been
well observed, that if his writings were by any accident to perish,

276 THE LIFE OF JOSEPH ADDISON.

the loss could not elsewhere be supplied, and “would make a
chasm not in the number only, but in the species of our fine
writers.’’* As aman, he stood first among his literary cotempo-
raries in the charms of his conversation, the amenity of his dis-
position, the purity of his morals, and the correctness and consist-
ency of his conduct in public life and private. With wit and
genius which would have obtained pardon with the world at large
for many foibles and many vices, he made it his chief aim to
draw as lightly as possible upon its moral indulgence. A vigilant
prudence, a wary reserve, which served as his safeguards amid
the snares of life, rendered him, perhaps, less the object of the
love of his associates than of their respect and admiration; and
his sarcastic wit, a weapon of which he is said not to have been
unwilling at times to let the edge be felt, must often have in-
spired alarm. Hence probably it is, that we have fewer familiar
stories of his sayings and his habits than of those of his cotempo-
rary wits, and hence, too, perhaps, the number of little malicious
tales concerning him which have at times obtained currency. If the
present narrative of his life, formed from the most authentic docu-
ments, should serve to place his character at once in a more dis-
tinct and more interesting point of view, the design of the author
will be fully answered.

It must surely be satisfactory to all whom the writings of Addi-
son have profited and delighted, to observe him setting the seal to
his precepts by the cultivation of elegant and intellectual society,
by perseverance in literary pursuits,—by a life of purity, upright-
ness and benevolence.

ee eee

* Mrs. Barbauld.

APPENDIX.

Tuer Memorial of Addison to George I. has been several times
referred to in the preceding pages, and extracts from it presented ;
but the importance of the document which has never before ap-
peared in print, seems to demand its publication in an entire
state.

MR, ADDISON’S MEMORIAL.

(A much worn and somewhat mutilated copy in the possession of Mr. Tickell)
in his own handwriting.

Tar your Memorialist was sent from y* University by K.
William, in order to travail and qualify himself to serve H. M.,
by which means he was diverted from making his Fortune in any
other way.

That y* King allowed him an annual Pension for this end, but
H. M. dying in y° first year of this bis allowance, and y Pension
being discontinued, your Memorialist pursued his travels upon his
own Expense for above three years.

That upon his Return to England, after having published an
Account of his Travails, y° Lord Godolphin recommended him to
be Under Secretary to her Majesty’s principal Sec’ of State,
which Place he enjoyed under Sir C. Hedges and y° E. of Sun-
derland.

That my Lord H. upon going to Hanover, desired him to
accompany him thither, at which time, tho’ he had not y*, Title
of his Secretary, he officiated as such without any other Reward
than y° Satisfaction of showing his zeal for that illustrious
Family.

That upon his Return to England he took all occasions, both by
his writings and conversation, to promote y* cause, which, God

278 APPENDIX.

oo

be thank’d, has so wonderfully prevail’d, and to publish those
Royal virtues which the nation sees at present in your Majesty.

That your Mem* was afterwards Sec’ to y* EK. of W. in y°
Government of Ireland, and endeavoured to behave himself with
that Diligence and Integrity that he has gain’d y° friendship of
all y* most considerable Persons in that Kingdom.

That, when Baron Groet was your Majesty’s Minister in these
Kingdoms your Mem* was employed to meet and discourse with
him upon such Points as might be thought conducive to y® inte-
rest of y° Protestant Succession, y° s* Baron Groet having pro-
posed to my L* H. this method (as) y* means to avoid giving any
umbrage to ****

That at this time your Mem* was employed to draw a new
Credential Letter from that Excellent Princess, y* late Electress
Dowager of Brunswick, with o' Instruments of y°® same nature,
for which he thought himself amply satisfied by y* Pleasure he
took in doing anything which might promote your Majesty’s
Cause. —

That, upon y® Queen’s Demise, without any previous Solici-
tation, your Mem* was, in that critical conjuncture, appointed
Sec’ to y° Regency.

That during this very troublesome office, he was ordered by y*
then L's Regent to draw up a Preamble to the P. of Wales’
Patent, for which there was no gratuity allowed him.

That he received no Fee, Salary, Reward or Perquisite what-
soever for this his Service to y® Regency, notwithstanding he was
at considerable charge in keeping Clerks, and other Expences
that accompanied his attendance in that Office, and notwithstand-
ing y° incredible Fatigue of that Office very much impaired his
health, and would have endanger’d his Life, had he continued
much longer in it.

That y* Lords of y* Regency, upon y® determining this Office,
declared unanimously that they were highly satisfied with the
Diligence and Fidelity of their Sec’ and that upon their first at-
tendance on Your Majesty, they would with one Voice, recom-
mend him to your Royal Favor, fora mark of your Majesty’s
Bounty. .

That the Mem*’s-Profits as Sec’ under my L" Sunderland have
fallen very much short of what might have been expected from
that Office, and (contrary to y°® Profits of all other y* like Offices
. in this first happy year of your Majesty’s reign) have amounted

to no more than they usually are in any common year, by reason

4

es Pe

APPENDIX. 279

ee

of his Lordship’s absence from that kingdom, and his not being
qualified to give out military commissions.

That y" Mem* has not thought fit to mention y* expences he
was at to get himself elected into the 3 last Sessions of Parliament
in y® last Reign, and can appeal to those who were witnesses of
his Behaviour, that he never departed from those who were well
wishers to your Majesty’s Interest, tho’ often press’d and tempted
to it by y* opposite Party. Nor will your Mem*’s modesty per-
mit him to insist upon his endeavours, which were not - thought
unsuccessful in securing such a spirit among the People as dis-
posed ’em to favour y° Interest of a Prince who is so justly es-
teemed a Friend to y® Liberties of Europe and a * * * * of man-
kind.

It is therefore an unspeakable Mortification to your Mem* to
find himself thrown out of Place and for that Reason to be regarded
as one who has forfeited your Majesty’s Favour, and I humbly »
beg that Y. M. * ** *,

cetera desunt.

THE END.

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04824 A225

| Aikin, Lucy, 1781-1864.

| The life of Joseph Addison

Aiken, Lucy

| The life of Jospeh Addison.

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